


Running and Hiding

by RiverWriter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Auror Harry Potter, F/M, Friendship, Post-Hogwarts, Post-War, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2019-10-02 11:43:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 43,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17263583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiverWriter/pseuds/RiverWriter
Summary: Hermione couldn't bear to stay in Britain after the war. But she left a wake of questions behind her as well as a best friend who missed her very much. What happens when he eventually decides to track her down in an entirely new environment? Can they renew their friendship? Could it be something more?





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"Hello Stranger."

Hermione was bent over, digging through a drawer, and she nearly slammed her head against her desk at the sound of that familiar voice. She sat up and almost burst into tears at the sight of her best friend leaning casually against her office door.

But all she could bring herself to say was: "You grew a beard."

"Well hello to you too," his words were friendly. However, they didn't match his dark expression, and Hermione suddenly felt what it must be like to face this wizard across the table in an interrogation room. But when their eyes met something flickered behind that striking green gaze and he gave her a crooked smile. "And yes, you weren't around to nag me into shaving, so I just didn't. You know how I hate doing it."

"Oh," she let out in a rush of breath. "Well, I'm glad that I wasn't, it suits."

"Thanks, Gin thinks so too, Molly hates it." He smiled at her, the smile that reminded her of the eleven-year-old boy she'd met on the Hogwarts Express.

Hermione's heart clenched at the mention of his fiancée, but she did her best to school her features and remind herself that she was happy for them. Ginny was Harry's choice, she was a good person who made him happy, and- most importantly-she loved him. "How is Ginny...and everybody?"

"Ginny's good," he said with a soft, indulgent smile on his face. Hermione had to resist the urge to press a hand to her sternum in an attempt to alleviate the ache in her chest at the sight. "She's living her quidditch dream. Still loves being with the Harpies and she's practically a shoe in to make the English team for the next World Cup."

"Good for her," Hermione muttered.

"Molly and Arthur are the same, eating up being grandparents."

Hermione continued to nod along as she tried to find something on her desk to keep her attention off of his face.

"Fleur's pregnant again, she's quit Gringotts to be a full time mum."

Hermione kept nodding and made a concerted effort not to comment on that. She had a sneaking suspicion that decision hadn't been the French witch's idea, but it was none of her business, if she'd ever had any right to give her opinion, she'd long ago relinquished it.

"Charlie is Charlie," Harry let out a little laugh, but Hermione knew exactly what he meant. The second Weasley son was one of a kind. "Percy and Audrey had their first child, did you hear about that?"

"I heard they were expecting," she confessed, shamefaced that she hadn't even been aware that the baby had been born.

"Well, they named her after Molly. On top of that, Percy's moving up in the Ministry, just like he always wanted. And I expect a baby announcement from George and Angelina at any time. WWW is growing all the time, keeps them on their feet, but I saw Angelina cooing over Molly the other day and I recognized the look on her face," he chuckled.

"Baby fever?" She surmised.

"Yep," he winked at her.

There were a few beats of uncomfortable silence that made Hermione want to cry as she wondered to herself how they had reached this point.

"And your wedding plans, how are they coming along?" She eventually ventured.

"Honestly," he sighed, "Molly's being difficult. I think she sees this as an opportunity to basically show off her hospitality to the entire country- because we are going to have to let at least a few members of the press in. She wanted to hold it at the Burrow."

"But it's tradition for the groom and his family to host the wedding!" She gasped. If Harry hadn't known Molly as well as he did, that suggestion could have been interpreted as a major insult to his House.

"I know. She told me that she considered me one of her own, which is-" he blew out a breath, "really nice, but it doesn't change the facts. I had to explain to her that while I'm grateful for everything she's done for me over the years, I'm a Potter. Ginny is marrying into my House and the wedding is my responsibility. I think I hurt her feelings but, Merlin Hermione, can you imagine what people would say? It's already difficult to get some of the purebloods to take me seriously because I was raised in the muggle world."

Hermione just shook her head in disbelief. Molly Weasley lived in her own world, she meant well, but it often made it difficult to deal with her. There were a few beats of silence and then Hermione took a deep breath.

"And Ronald, how is he? Is he here?"

"No," Harry shook his head with a fond smile. "I'm here on a six month exchange to help train some new cadets and get some advanced training of my own in return. You know Ron. He's a good auror, but he's not overly ambitious. Honestly, I think he was relieved not to be chosen, he likes to stay within apparition distance of his mother's cooking."

Hermione just nodded.

"Frankly," he continued, "I think he'll probably put in his ten years, retire from the corps, and buy into WWW. George will certainly be in need of another partner by then and I know he'd prefer to keep it in the family. Plus, he's seeing Lavender Brown again, it's gotten pretty serious and she's not a huge fan of his job."

"Oh," Hermione blurted in surprise. "Lavender. Wow, how's that going?"

He met her eyes knowingly in response to that startled reaction and smirked.

"I don't mean to criticize," she defended. It was true, she'd just believed Ron had been well and truly done with the witch after their first relationship. She could honestly say there was no jealousy there, just surprise.

"Better than it was in sixth year," he chuckled. "She's grown up, I guess the war changed us all. Anyway, she's good for him, she dotes."

And there it was.

Hermione sighed in frustration. "You mean she's good for him the way that I wasn't."

"That's not what I said and it's definitely not what I meant." He ran a hand through his hair in a gesture that Hermione knew also demonstrated how frustrated he was becoming. He'd spent most of their fifth year tugging at his hair at the very sight of Doelores Umbridge. "If you recall I supported you when you broke up with him and when you decided to move to America."

She'd basically fled from Britain in shame. Not over the breakup with Ron exactly, but that she'd allowed herself to be in the relationship to begin with. She'd settled for a man she was comfortable with because she couldn't have the one she really wanted. A man she'd known she could never fully trust again after his actions during the war. She'd run from her own cowardice, which was, in and of itself, cowardly. But it was what she was convinced she had needed at the time.

"Yeah, but you expected me to have my little adventure and then move back to Britain, throw myself at Ron's mercy and hope he would take me back and we could all be one big happy family," she countered.

Harry pushed away from her door, planted himself in the middle of the doorway, feet shoulder width apart, arms crossed over his chest and glared at her. Most people probably would have been intimidated by the power he radiated. She just thought that he was beautiful.

"I did and still do wish that you would move home, but not for Ron, I miss you." He hissed. "And yes, there was a time I hoped the two of you would end up together. But with time and distance, and especially seeing Ron with Lavender, I've realized how unsuited the two of you are. I said that Lavender dotes on him. He needs that, he needs a woman who will make him and their family her whole world. You're far too ambitious to ever be that woman. Which is fine, Hermione. I have great admiration for your ambition. You shouldn't have to change for him nor should he have to change for you."

"Oh," she breathed, feeling thoroughly chastised.

"Yes," he snapped.

She frantically looked around her desk for something to distract her again. "You said that you were here on a six month exchange? You must have known about that for awhile. Why didn't you tell me you were coming?"

He scoffed. "Oh I don't know Hermione, maybe I didn't want to give you a chance to find another place to hide."

"Hide? I haven't been hiding."

"Which is why nobody has heard from you in months?" He stormed into her office proper, but stopped a few feet in front of her desk, and it was obvious that he was reigning in his temper. "Why you never come home? If you're not hiding from us, what are you doing?" He demanded.

"I've just been busy! You know how I am," she defended. "And I've been back," she added weakly.

"Hermione, this isn't getting lost in the library and missing lunch. I haven't heard a word from you in months! Your letters keep getting shorter and shorter, and you haven't been back since the Christmas before last. That's almost two years!"

"I had a big project I was working on last December!"

He removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose before replacing them and spearing her with that emerald glare. "We would have come to see you, if we'd been invited. But we weren't, we never have been!"

Hermione looked away, she didn't have an excuse. At least not one that she could share Harry, no matter how furious he was. She couldn't explain that it was too difficult to watch him with another woman. That the longer she was gone the easier it became to lock that heartache away, but the more difficult it became to contact anybody from her old life. And, as a result, her correspondence had become fewer and further between until it had dropped off almost completely. She missed them, but she learned to bury herself in her work and her life in America, and the pain had been reduced to a dull ache that she could mostly ignore.

"I supported you when you said you were moving because I understood. I could have used a break from Britain too, but I had House responsibilities that made that impossible," he added to her guilt. "But if I'd known you were just going to disappear from our lives I would have chained you to the radiator!"

"I didn't disappear!" She shot back frantically, knowing that she was lying even as the words left her mouth.

"Yes you did!" His magic crackled around him, and far from being afraid, as she was sure most people would have been, Hermione had to grip the arms of her chair to keep from running to him. "You don't know the simplest things about anybody's life. People have started to talk about you in the past tense! As far as Teddy and Victoire are concerned, you're basically a myth! Were you even planning on coming to my wedding!?"

She opened her mouth to answer but he interrupted. "Never mind, I don't want to watch you lie to me again. Tell me though, do you just not care about any of us? Because I'm out of the country for work a lot, but I make it a point to be home for the important things."

"It's different for you, you have a place there, you have family!"

He paused then, and his face dissolved into an expression of such utter sadness that it was difficult to continue to hold her head up against the burden of having hurt him.

"And what am I? Because I certainly counted you as family. I thought you were the woman who would always be there, no matter what! But now I'm starting to think I was just a project you marked complete at the end of the war." He laughed, a long bitter sound. "Well, congratulations! We won, I guess that counts as an Outstanding for you Miss Granger!" He turned on his heel, marched out of the office, and slammed the door behind him.

She just stared at it for the longest time. "You, Harry, you are everything," she eventually whispered, far too late. And then she laid her head down on her desk and cried.

What had she done?


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Harry attempted to school his expression into something neutral, or at least less furious, and to moderate his stride. He couldn't be seen storming through the halls of MACUSA on his first day. He wasn't as well known in America as he was in Europe, but he was still recognizable and it wouldn't be good to get a reputation as a nutcase before he'd even really begun his program.

He wasn't particularly successful.

He hadn't meant to lose his temper like that. He'd just wanted to see her. But then they'd devolved into small talk- their precious relationship had been reduced to small talk- and he couldn't contain himself.

Where had it all gone wrong?

He'd missed her so much. She had been his rock for so long. The idea that she didn't feel the same made him feel frail and so he'd snapped.

He stormed into the office he'd been assigned to share with the training partner who'd traveled with him from Britain and slammed that door as well.

"Things didn't go well with Granger, then?"

He would have been embarrassed, but he'd never cared what Malfoy thought of him and he didn't intend to start now.

"It's like she's an entirely different person," he bellowed- he didn't know what he'd expected, for her to run to him, embrace him, tell him how sorry she was for being distant? Would that have made things okay? If he was being honest, probably not, her inexplicable disappearance from his life was devastating, a smile and a hug wouldn't have simply fixed that. But he would at least have liked to know that she'd missed him too. He didn't even think she'd been happy to see him, at best she'd seemed surprised.

"Well that's unfortunate, given that your entire reason for taking this assignment was to reconnect with her."

"It was not," Harry shot back in a tone that was known to send junior aurors scrambling.

The blond didn't even flinch. "You accepted a politically motivated posting- which you never do-"

"So did you," Harry snapped.

"Yes, because it's good for my career. When I decided to become an auror I accepted that I'd be proving myself my whole career, I'd have to allow them to trot me out as the reformed Death Eater, a symbol that things are changing in Britain. You, on the other hand, have absolutely nothing to prove and you hate being used for your status as the boy-who-lived, and yet you're allowing it this time."

Harry couldn't argue with that, which only increased his irritation.

"As I was saying, you accepted this posting, against the wishes of your fiancée- and I can only assume, her entire family as well- yet you expect me to believe it wasn't because of the woman you asked after immediately upon our arrival? I keep my own counsel, Potter, but I'm not a fool. You're here to convince Granger to march her little arse home. For what reason, I don't pretend to understand and I won't speculate, because the last thing I want to get involved in is some drama between the Golden Trio, but don't insult my intelligence."

Harry sighed and flopped into a chair. "I would love for her to come home, but I'm not going to try and talk her into it- by all accounts she has a good life here and I wouldn't take that from her. But I did think I could find...answers. I thought she would still be Hermione and she would at least talk to me like she used to."

"Answers to what?"

"I understand why she moved away, she needed some space. But why does she hardly ever write, much less visit? It wasn't always like this, at first it felt like I was barely able to finish reading one letter before she sent another. She came home twice that first year but now… I thought she'd need less space over time, not more. What happened? Does she ever plan to come home?"

"I can't believe you're telling me this."

"I can't either. Where's your wife? I thought she was coming to pick you up? I'd much rather tell this to her pretty face."

"I'd much rather you did too, she probably got distracted sightseeing and lost track of time," he sighed dramatically. "Well, in for a penny in for a pound."

Harry didn't believe his dramatics for a second, Malfoy was a nosy little ferret and was surely eating this up. "That's a muggle expression," Harry couldn't help but needle him a little.

"I'm aware," he responded with a roll of his eyes. "Back to Granger, can you really blame her if she's changed? The war changed us all. And people grow apart, isn't that what they say. You haven't lived in the same country in what, four years?"

"Our friendship isn't like that," he pouted, but his doubts were growing.

Malfoy shrugged. "Maybe she just doesn't want you and your pack of Weasleys in her life as a constant reminder of the way our society looks at people like her- no matter what the Minister's trying to sell here. Maybe she just wants to escape the memories. You say she has a good life here, I heard some senior Aurors talking about her earlier, she gets far more respect here than she would at home."

"I know that, I just never thought I would lose her."

"Look, you have six months here to figure it out," he shrugged again. "But it's worth considering if maybe she's not better off left alone."

Harry hadn't considered it from that angle, it was too painful. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to imagine a life without Hermione- permanently.

"Merlin, Potter, you're not going to cry, are you?"

And suddenly wiping the floor with a ferret seemed like just the thing to make him feel better. "Are you up for a duel? I need to get rid of some of this energy."

"I'm always ready to kick your arse," Malfoy snickered.

* * *

 Meanwhile, Hermione had pulled herself together and made some decisions.

The good thing about being in love with your best friend was that you got to see them all the time.

The terrible thing about being in love with your best friend was that you were expected to see them all the time..

Well, the second part was only true if that love was unrequited. And Hermione Granger's love for Harry Potter definitely qualified as such. She'd lived with that truth for years. She'd had a crush on him probably from the moment he'd run into that bathroom and jumped on a troll's back, saving her life.

But she'd known it was something much deeper than that from the time she'd been fifteen. Her terror for him during the tournament had been unlike anything she'd ever experienced before. However, she'd also realized that, unless he ever expressed an interest in her, that she could never tell him, he was too important to her and she wouldn't risk losing. But more important than that, he had needed her, and she couldn't let her feelings interfere with helping him.

But after the war he hadn't needed her anymore. She'd left England to protect herself from the shame of the position she'd put herself in with Ron, but also from the exhaustion she'd begun to feel hiding her feelings for Harry as she watched him with Ginny. However, she'd never meant to make him feel abandoned, the last thing she'd wanted was to hurt him,

The very thought that she'd made him feel unimportant or unloved was like a stake to the heart.

It was time to fix it.

She went to the bathroom to splash some water on her face and make sure she didn't look as terrible as she felt, and then she made her way towards the Auror Department. She was mentally preparing what she was going to say to him and so she barely noticed when the lift doors opened, much less who stepped in beside her.

"Hermione Granger!"

Her head shot up at the cry of her name and she looked at her companion. Astoria Greengrass- no, Malfoy. That wedding had been splashed all over the papers she still subscribed to from home. She'd been surprised at the time, she knew he'd joined the aurors but Malfoy must actually have changed to have landed this witch. Hermione had only known her a little at Hogwarts, but unlike her sister she'd sorted into Ravenclaw and so it hadn't been taboo for her to associate with Gryffindors, and on more than one occasion she'd sought Hermione out for academic help, so she had gotten to know the younger witch well enough to be aware that she was genuine and intelligent.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," Astoria continued, "I was just surprised to see a familiar face. Though, now that I think about it Draco mentioned that you had moved to America and were working here."

"Oh, it's okay, I was just lost in thought." She made a concerted effort to smile at the other woman, whom, she was surprised to note was wearing a pretty muggle sundress and a pair of sandals. "Hello, Astoria. It's lovely to see you, what are you doing-" she cut herself off as the pieces started to come together. "Malfoy's here with Harry, isn't he?"

Her face fell slightly. "That's right. You didn't know already? I hope that won't be a problem?" She asked carefully.

Hermione shook her head. "No, I guess Harry wanted to surprise me by coming here and when we spoke earlier he didn't mention anything about the team he brought with him. But I have no intention of holding childish grudges."

"Actually it's only him and Harry." Astoria continued to look guarded and Hermione got the impression she was a little too used to having to defend her husband.

"Well, Harry must have come to think quite highly of him," she said casually and watched the witch finally relax as the lift came to a halt at their destination.

As they stepped out into the corridor a senior auror was making his way towards them. "Hey Hermione!" He greeted. "Come to see the show?"

"Show?"

"Potter and the other English guy with the weird name are going to duel," he checked his watch. "Actually they've probably already started, I got tied up on a call." He looked at Astoria, and extended his hand. "Dennis Hawkins."

She smiled and took the preferred hand. "Hello, I'm Astoria Malfoy, the guy with the weird name's wife."

Dennis blanched and Hermione bit back a laugh, he was a good friend and the nicest guy in the world but he had a penchant for putting his foot in it.

Astoria quickly waved him off. "I'm not offended. A lot of people think so, it's a tradition in his mother's family to give children celestial names and his mother's family is more than a little odd." Hermione couldn't help herself, she did laugh at that. "And as you can tell from her reaction, Hermione is acquainted with more than one member of that family."

He just nodded but was clearly relieved. "Well, Potter's reputation precedes him but word is that your husband is a talented fighter himself and so it quickly got around that they were going to duel and I think pretty much everybody on duty is in there watching."

Hermione looked to Astoria, she knew from experience that some people hated to watch their spouses in such a position, it was too much of a reminder of how dangerous their job could be.

She just shrugged. "Always entertaining to watch Draco get beaten, it keeps him humble."

"I wasn't aware he was capable of humility," Hermione remarked without thinking, immediately clapping a hand over her mouth in mortification.

Astoria simply threw her head back and laughed.

Hermione turned to Dennis. "I think we'll just join you, Dennis, before either you or I can say something else embarrassing."

He nodded, winked at her and then led them down the corridor towards the observation room for the training area. Had she been thinking clearly she might have declined Dennis' invitation, or at least braced herself before she entered the room. But while she'd considered Astoria's reaction, she hadn't even paused to consider her own.

Perhaps it was because it had been such a long time since she'd had a flashback, and since her hyper awareness from the war had worn off, or perhaps she was just anxious to see Harry again. Those were the only explanations she could come up with later for why it hadn't been obvious that watching Harry duel Draco Malfoy, of all people, would be a trigger for her.

When Dennis opened she door for them she immediately felt the power of it, even through the magical barrier that separated the observation room from the training room which acted to protect those who were watching, and looked like a muggle two way mirror. But it was mostly Harry's magic that she detected, as she was so attuned to it, and she never had, nor ever could fear Harry, so that's not what set her off.

It was the sight of her best friend, the person she loved more than anybody else in the world, being relentlessly attacked by a person that the primal part of her brain still considered to be the enemy. It didn't matter that other parts of her brain knew that this was- essentially- a friendly duel and that he was in no real danger, or that she could see that he was giving at least as good as he got. Her heart began beating rapidly in her chest, she began having trouble catching her breath, and then she panicked completely.

"Harry!" She shrieked and scrambled for the door, desperate to get to him. But all the entrances to the training area had been locked down because of the active duel. She pulled at the handle with every ounce of strength she possessed and when she remembered to use her wand she began casting every unlocking charm she'd ever even heard of, unaware of the talk going on in the background, of the people pleading with her, of the gentle hands trying to calm her down, until the door finally opened and he was there standing in front of her. She launched herself at him.

He caught her and lowered them both to the floor. Him, she heard, as soon as he began speaking. She matched her breathing to his as he encouraged her to do, and allowed the feeling of his arms around her and his familiar scent calm her, assure her that he was safe, that they were both safe.

Until she was calm enough to realize what had just happened. She pushed against his chest until he released her, looking around as she scooted backwards to see nearly half the auror corps staring at her in shock, but worse, when she finally met Malfoy's eyes they were full of something that looked an awful lot like pity. She felt her face heat and she was filled with an entirely different kind of panic. She rose shakily to her feet and turned on her heel.

"Hermione!" Harry called.

She looked back only long enough to note the expression of profound hurt on his face, but she ran anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Weestarmeggie for beta reading. And thanks to you all for reading, I'm so thrilled by the love this story has gotten so far!


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Hermione managed to make it to one of MACUSA's designated apparition points- but just barely. She shouldn't have risked it, but she did at least manage to keep from splinching herself. But again, only just.

And because the universe was obviously toying with her, the first thing she set eyes on when she landed in her apartment was the framed sketch she had sitting on a table just inside her front door which Harry had sent her after he'd been to Prague on a mission a couple of years before. Her heart contracted in her chest at the sight of it.

What was she going to do? She'd been so determined to make things up to him, to win back his friendship and then, in the blink of an eye she'd found herself back in a place where she'd felt utterly helpless, a place only he could pull her out of. It had been a panic attack like that which had sealed her decision to leave England.

Occasionally, during that time in the tent hunting horcruxes, in those months Ron had been gone, when one of them was exhausted and at the end of their rope they would shirk their guard duties and crawl into bed with the other. It hadn't happened often, perhaps only a handful of times, and they'd never talked about it but, at least to Hermione, it had felt like something sacred. Something beautiful and perfect and despite the circumstances she'd never felt safer.

She knew that Harry believed she had been mourning Ron's departure- and she had been, in a way- but mostly she'd just been terrified that Ron's actions had served as a death noll to their mission. She didn't think she could fill the void he'd left by herself, and she'd been certain she was going to fail Harry. Between that and being tired and hungry, she'd been nearly inconsolable. And Harry, who could be tragically emotionally tone deaf, hadn't known how to handle it. But those hours together had been different. Restorative.

And then after Malfoy Manor he seemed to have woken up. He felt so guilty for what had happened to her, for being the trigger for it, that he couldn't rush to her side quickly enough when she was upset, and especially when she began to panic. She tried not to rely on him too much, but there were simply times when he was the only thing that could help her calm down and come back to her own mind.

One night, the summer after her last year at Hogwarts, she'd awoken from a nightmare in screaming terror. She'd been staying at the Burrow and before Ginny could even reach her from just across the room Harry had burst in and taken her into his arms. When she stopped crying and clinging to him, murmuring Merlin knew what into the skin of his neck, she'd pulled back and seen the looks on Ginny and Ron's- who'd apparently followed Harry into the room- faces and she knew. She couldn't stay.

Even if Harry remained ignorant, she knew that both siblings would figure out how she felt about him, if they hadn't already. Ron's expression suggested that he at least suspected already, and she'd hated herself for essentially having led him on, even if she'd already broken up with him.

No, she had to leave.

So, she'd quietly made some inquiries about jobs outside of the country- she had wanted to be further than just a short portkey journey away from home, that would have made the temptation to return on a whim too great, and she also wanted to avoid Australia. It would have been too painful to live in the same country as her parents, who wanted nothing to do with her, even a country that large.

And when she'd received an offer from MACUSA for a position in their magical creatures department she hadn't hesitated to accept. She'd traveled to New York twice with her parents over the course of her childhood and was intrigued by the diversity of the city and variety of sights and activities to keep her occupied. It was like London in that way, but with a much smaller chance she'd run into somebody who would know her by reputation. She rather relished the idea of getting lost in the masses.

When she'd told them Ron had thrown a fit- which was no less than she'd expected- to rival that which he'd thrown when she'd broken up with him. But Harry had been a quiet and steady presence at her side, refusing to let him berate her and fully supporting her decision.

And since she'd moved she'd done the work. She'd gone to therapy, talked out her feelings, learned how to cope with her panic attacks without needing to rely on another person. But she'd also made friends she could rely on when things started to close in and she needed a shoulder to cry on. She'd built a brilliant career and had even dated- though not very successfully.

So it had terrified her how quickly she'd fallen back into old patterns. How much his presence still affected her. She had been certain she would always love Harry, but she hadn't thought she'd needed him the way she used to. Probably because she'd been hiding away from him, which wasn't healthy either. Perhaps it had been necessary four years ago, but it was time to get a handle on this.

Especially because he was going to be here for six months, she had no illusions that she'd be able to avoid him for that long, even if he just let her be- which was very unlike Harry. Knowing he was so close she'd eventually give in and seek him out. Because when he'd been standing before her in the flesh, and she'd taken him in, certain he was taller and broader than the last time she'd seen him, and with that beard which already made him more attractive to her than he ever had been- to an absurd degree, she'd known she couldn't continue to stay away from him.

She dragged herself into her living room and fell onto her couch, only just now becoming aware that she'd left her briefcase at work and her office in disarray. But that didn't compare to the state she'd left the wizard- whom she continued to consider her best friend despite how abominably she'd treated him- in.

So, despite how humiliating this afternoon had been, she would have to suck it up. And the sooner the better. If she waited to go to him he'd just be more suspicious, or worse, more hurt. All he'd done was hold her and help her through a panic attack. There was nothing wrong with that. And she hadn't had one in years, she'd just been caught off guard.

She could do this.

She would let him back into her life, and as she sat there and accepted that idea, her entire being seemed to warm pleasantly at the thought.

She'd go to his wedding, if he still wanted her. She'd be happy for him. And while she fully planned to continue her life here, she vowed to never shut him out again.

And tomorrow, tomorrow she would hug him like she had after she'd woken up from weeks petrified in the Hogwarts infirmary.

* * *

 

Harry was kneeling on the floor staring at the doorway where his best friend had disappeared- literally running away from him. "What just happened?" He asked nobody in particular.

"She's probably just embarrassed," answered a voice he didn't recognize.

Harry looked up, searching for the source of the voice. "Does that happen a lot? To Hermione," he felt the need to clarify.

"No, I've never seen her like that and I know her pretty well," the man, a senior auror- Hollings or Hawkins if Harry recalled correctly- answered.

He took a deep breath, inhaled and exhaled carefully as he tried to get his bearings. It had been a long time since he'd felt so off-kilter.

"It used to happen, sometimes, after the war," he mumbled, mostly to himself, "but it was usually after a nightmare. I don't understand what triggered her today, was it just me?" He looked around, hoping for an answer amongst this group of strangers, his heart broke at the idea and he'd rarely felt so helpless.

"Merlin, Potter, you're usually not quite this thick, do you just forget how to use your brain when you're in Granger's vicinity because you're used to her doing all your thinking for you?" Malfoy drawled.

"Enlighten me, then," Harry snapped in return.

"It wasn't you, it was me," he huffed. "More specifically, I can only assume, me fighting you. She's never seen us fight anything resembling a friendly duel, her instincts told her you were in danger. It must have been quite a shock for her to see, especially considering she didn't even know I was here."

"She did though," a familiar, feminine voice interrupted and Harry's head whipped around to see Astoria Malfoy, looking like she was attempting to be as unobtrusive as possible in the corner of the room, but whom was also standing proudly, with that perfect pureblood posture you apparently couldn't escape childhood in a traditional family without having learned. "We were on the same lift on the way here, she said it wasn't a problem. And she knew that the two of you would be dueling when we walked in here," she continued

Malfoy smiled at his wife but it was tight and didn't reach his eyes. "But panic attacks aren't logical like that love, just because she knew doesn't mean that she was actually prepared."

Harry sighed. "You're right, of course you're right." He removed his glasses and wiped at his eyes, then finally crawled up off of the floor. He looked at- Hawkins, he was almost certain his name was Hawkins. "She won't face any harassment over this, will she?"

The older man immediately shook his head. "Absolutely not. I'll make sure of it. And anyway, that woman is loved around here, she's a breath of fresh air from our usual research and development people and a lot of us owe her our lives. And she's a warrior in her own right, with more scars than we realized, but there's no shame in that."

Harry was gratified to hear the murmurs of agreement from the others around him. He gave the other man a short nod and strode from the room.

"Harry!" He heard Astoria call before he could make it to the lift. He turned to see her hurrying towards him dragging her husband- who looked quite put upon- behind him. "Are you going after her?"

"No," he shook his head and for some reason, avoided the witch's eyes.

"You should, I think she needs you right now. She was absolutely desperate to get to you, it was hard to watch."

"It was just a flashback, she thought she needed to protect me, like she did when we were kids. That doesn't mean she wants to see the real me," he countered.

"I think she does, that's why she was coming up here."

"Because Hermione is thoughtful and responsible, and I'm an old friend. I'm sure she just thinks she didn't give me a proper introduction to New York and wanted to make up for it."

"I think it's more than that."

"And I think it might have been a mistake to come here. I covered her whole childhood with my messes. I'm here for less than a day and it's already started again. I'm not going to blow up the life she has here by imposing on her any further," Harry said, even as it felt as if his heart was splitting open.

"I think that's a mistake, I think that she needs you right now," she insisted, laying a hand on his forearm.

"Tori," Malfoy interrupted. "He might be right, I always liked to be alone when I was recovering from a panic attack."

Astoria rounded on her husband. "Right, like you've always had the healthiest coping mechanisms," she hissed. "Why don't we ask your father for parenting advice while we're at it?"

Harry bit back a laugh, he had yet to become accustomed to the way the woman casually derided her in-laws. Not that he could blame her, he might owe Narcissa Malfoy a life debt but he wasn't blind, and they treated Astoria- whom Harry believed Malfoy was quite lucky to have convinced to marry him- like she was some kind of consolation prize because they didn't consider her to have come from a prestigious enough family. Also, Astoria had a point, just not about Hermione.

"I can't believe I'm about to say this, but I think Malfoy is right about this. She's made it very clear that she's better off without me, and it's time I respected that decision. You two have a good night." And with that he turned on his heel and continued on down the corridor.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Harry walked aimlessly along the streets of Manhattan; years of constant situational awareness made it easy for him to dart amongst the crowds without upsetting anybody or tripping himself. He had no idea where he was going, though with his training one quick look at a map would have made it easy for him to orient himself, but for the moment he preferred the feeling of being just a little bit lost. His days were usually so purpose driven, it wasn't a familiar feeling, but it suited his mood.

He stopped at the New York Public Library and seated himself on the steps in front of the building as he had seen many other people doing. He wondered if fate had brought him to this place as he was thinking of her. She would hate that idea, far too much like divination for her to tolerate. But he did think she must love it here, he'd read up on the place when he'd been doing research, preparing for a six month stay in this city. Nowhere near the amount of research she would probably deem necessary, but enough to know that this was a book lover's dream.

At least he thought he knew these things about her. Maybe he didn't anymore. That idea had him slumping in on himself.

Was their friendship essentially over? Despite Harry's protests to the contrary, Malfoy had mostly been right about his motives for coming here. There had been several things that had interested him about taking the post, but what had sealed his decision was the opportunity to reconnect with her. A lot of people lost touch with their childhood friends, maybe even most people. But they'd neither had a typical childhood, nor been typical friends, they'd meant so much more to each other. Or so he had thought.

He checked his watch and pulled out his mobile. Ginny was a night owl and there was little chance she was in bed. But it only rang twice on the other end and then her cheerful voice was asking him to leave a message. She had almost certainly forgotten to charge it again. He shrugged to himself and decided to try one more person.

"Teddy's in bed," the voice on the other end answered, instead of a traditional greeting.

He laughed, used to Andromeda's blunt manner. "Well hello to you too."

"Can I assume you rang to talk to me then and didn't just forget the time difference?"

"It's not unheard of."

"You're so kind to an old woman," she sighed dramatically and this time Harry didn't suppress his laughter, Andromeda was barely fifty. "How's the new assignment?" She asked.

Despite his low mood he couldn't pretend that he wasn't generally pleased to be here. "The facilities are impressive and the city seems interesting. I've only been here once before, blowing through in about half a day, so I don't consider myself to have seen it at all. The atmosphere is different within the corps, but in a way I approve of."

"Different?" There was shuffling sound on the other end and Harry imagined that she was settling in to talk to him.

"Nobody seems at all interested in my blood status. Though I suppose my reputation might precede me."

"And how is my nephew taking that?" Andromeda laughed.

Harry knew that they actually got along quite well these days, but that didn't stop it from amusing her when her sister's spoiled son was treated like, well, anybody else.

"Relieved, I think, not that he would ever admit it. But it means that it's a lot less likely anybody is going to be coming out of the woodwork to call him a Death Eater."

Andromeda sighed. "He's turned into a good man, despite the odds."

Harry made a noncommittal noise.

"Don't worry, I won't tell," she said on a laugh. "But may I assume you haven't called me after 11pm for an idle chat?"

"I saw Hermione," he blurted.

There was a distinct pause on the other end of the line.

Andromeda was pretty much the only person left in his life with whom he could discuss Hermione. Everybody else was too personally connected to her, too angry, too...opinionated in one way or another.

Well, he supposed there was Malfoy and Astoria, but that was different. Malfoy had so much history with Hermione, and he told Astoria everything. Andromeda, having only met Hermione on a handful of occasions was mostly objective.

"Oh?" She finally said.

"I'm not sure she was so happy to see me."

"Well you did rather spring it on her, didn't you, dear?"

He sighed. "Well yes, but still, she looked horrified to see me."

"Horrified or surprised? Her life has probably changed a lot since you were in it on a regular basis. Your sudden appearance, and the news you would be staying for six months must have been startling to her."

Harry groaned. "And now you sound like Malfoy."

"Is he wrong?"

"I don't know. I just miss her, I wanted her to be happy to see me."

There was a pause and Harry almost pulled the phone away from his face to make sure it was still connected.

"Well, it's been a few years, you can't expect things to pick up right where they left off, can you?" She responded eventually.

"No. I understand that. But as I was telling Astoria and Draco earlier, maybe I should just leave her alone."

"You went all that way and now you're going to avoid her?" She chucked. "Tell me what happened. Why do you have the impression she was so horrified to see you?"

"Well, after we finished our briefing, I went down to Research and Development to see her- and by the way, I knew she had been promoted to Deputy Director of Research but I didn't know how big that department was, she's thriving here. Anyway, I went to her office to say hello and she just kind of stared at me. She didn't get up to greet me or anything. She asked about everybody and, I don't know, I lost my temper, I started yelling at her and basically demanding to know why she didn't keep in touch more often. I asked her if she cared about us and then I kind of stormed out." And as he spoke, his words began to sink in and he realized how ridiculous he sounded. "Oh Merlin, I've made a mess of things, haven't I?"

"Yes, you certainly could have handled that with more tact. Perhaps, you could make plans to meet with her, don't just spring your presence on her at work, and then sit down to have a talk like rational human beings."

"That's not even all though," he groaned.

"Okay, go on then." He could hear a smile in her voice and assumed she believed he was being dramatic, if only she knew he was really holding back.

"I dueled Malfoy this afternoon, just to relieve some stress. About ten minutes in the moderator brought it to an emergency halt. Hermione was there in the observation room having a panic attack and was basically trying to blast into the training room to get to get to me," he sighed. "I'd forgotten how terrifying it is to watch her lose herself inside of her own mind like that. She jumped on me as soon as she saw me and she calmed down, but then, when she was herself again she immediately ran. She didn't stay with me or let me comfort her at all once she understood what was really going on. And her colleagues said they've never seen anything like that happen to her, so on top of everything else I feel guilty."

"Oh child. What did you expect her to do?"

"Like I said, let me comfort her."

"You also said that it's terrifying to see her lose herself like that, if it's terrifying for you, can you even begin to imagine what it's like for her? Especially since it sounds like she's out of practice coping with the attacks. And to have had one in front of people she works with? Can you really blame her for wanting to get out of there as soon as possible? Now, since you're on the phone with me can I assume that means you didn't go after her?"

"No, Astoria told me to, but I thought it best to leave her alone."

"Well, I don't know her well enough to know what was the best option in this case, but as I said I think you do need to talk to her, to at least clear the air, but in a calm and rational manner."

"I just feel like I keep hurting her. She only has panic attacks in the first place because of me."

"Harry," Andromeda sighed. "You're doing it again. Didn't you tell me that Hermione was the first person to point this out to you, what did she call it? Your saving people thing?"

"Yeah," he said, his breath catching in his throat.

"You can't make everybody happy, just like you can't save everybody and it's not your responsibility to try."

Harry wished he could believe that.

* * *

 

Hermione may have decided to face Harry in the morning, but for tonight she was going to wallow a little.

She took a large sip of wine and hit the speed-dial for her best friend- her best American friend. Merlin, she was going to have to re-adjust her vocabulary.

"Hi!" Quipped Leah, and Hermione could hear her bustling around her kitchen making dinner.

"Hi," Hermione responded, her own voice sounded absolutely flat.

There was a long pause at the end of the line. "What's going on? No. Wait. Just come over, I'm making shrimp linguini, there's plenty."

It was exactly the invitation she'd been waiting for. She knew that she easily could have just asked to come over and Leah would have welcomed her with open arms, but she was feeling particularly pathetic at the moment.

She automatically apparated into her friend's flat- apartment- as Leah always corrected her.

"Shit, Hermione," the other witch gasped, eyeing her. "Is that an open bottle of wine, what's wrong?"

"I saw Harry."

Leah's eyes went wide and she stepped away from the stove, obviously startled. "Harry? You mean Harry Potter?"

"Don't think I know any other Harrys. None that matter anyway."

"What the hell?"

"He's here on an auror exchange, apparently. For six months. He didn't even tell me, just showed up," surprised by the slur in her voice she looked down at the bottle in her hand and sure enough, it was much emptier than she'd thought.

"Okay, wow, this is going in stasis," Leah gestured to the meal she'd been preparing, "you need grease. And chocolate."

"No, no, it's fine," Hermione assured her.

"This is New York, there's no better place to get pizza before we discuss your long lost love returning to you. We might as well take advantage."

Leah was the only person to whom she'd ever confessed her true feelings for Harry.

"He isn't though," Hermione disputed. "He doesn't feel that way about me. He wants Ginny," she hated the whine in her voice.

"I don't know him, so I don't know if that's true or not. And honestly neither do you, since you've never said anything to him," she let out an exasperated sigh, this was an old debate between them. "But to you, he is your long lost love. Now come. Tell me what happened." She took Hermione's wrist then deftly plucked the wine bottle from her hand, and placed it on the tiny counter of her kitchen. "We can get drunk later if you like, but I need you coherent for now." And then, even as she picked up a cordless phone and easily placed an order for pizza, she led Hermione back into the living area of her apartment.

Hermione fell onto the sofa in an ungraceful heap. "He just appeared in my office Lee, looking better than ever, better than he has any right to, honestly. Gods help me, he was wearing his dragon hide and he grew a beard." She threw an arm across her face. "Oh Merlin, this is not me! I do not swoon over boys."

"Tipsy Hermione is an entirely different person," Leah snickered as she twisted her long blonde hair on top of her head, a sure sign she was settling in for a serious discussion. "Remember that time you did karaoke with that total stranger?"

"Shut up," Hermione pouted, "don't make fun of me right now, I'm having a crisis."

"That's it," Leah continued to snicker, "just go with the dramatics, it'll help you get it all out."

She huffed but didn't comment on that. "Well anyway, he looked really good. We talked for a few minutes and when I asked him why he hadn't told me he was coming, he told me that he didn't want to give me a chance to hide from him."

"Fair point."

"I- yeah, I realize that now."

Leah's eyes went wide. "Wow, he's only been here a day and he's already convinced you of something I've been telling you for years. How many times did I volunteer to go visit England with you? And you know I'm always up for an adventure."

Hermione and Leah had become fast friends when they started in the Creature Department at MACUSA at the same time and bonded over how quickly disillusioned they'd both become with their jobs. They'd both wanted to help advocate for creature rights and were disappointed to discover that they were mostly just mired down in bureaucracy. Even though they'd both moved on from those jobs after less than a year- Hermione to Research and Development after she realized that's what she'd essentially been doing for years at Hogwarts, and Leah quit MACUSA completely to train with a well known naturalist and magizoologist. The two had traveled extensively in the years they'd been friends.

"It's just, I can't even explain it. Everytime I thought about planning a trip I put it off."

Leah just nodded. She'd heard Hermione make a million excuses, and she'd seen right through every one.

"Anyway, he left in a strop. Not that I really blame him. He thinks I just don't care about him," her breath hitched and she blinked back tears.

"Oh honey," Leah responded, scooting over to put an arm around her.

"I hate myself for making him feel like that," Hermione sniffed. "I- have I really been that bad? Am I a horrible friend?"

"No, Hermione, I can tell you from first hand experience that you're a wonderful friend. But your relationship with Harry, I'm not sure it was ever entirely healthy. How could it have been, given what the two of you went through together? And then he broke your heart."

Hermione opened her mouth to dispute that but she held up a hand to stop her.

"I don't blame him, he didn't even know what he was doing. But that's still what happened."

"I didn't even realize how much I missed him until I saw him today, I just packed it away in the back of my mind. But now...I can't lose him Lee, but I'm afraid it's too late."

"Well, he's here now, and he obviously wanted to see you. You can fix it."

"I haven't even told you everything yet."

"Whenever you're ready," she soothed.

"I went after him, well, after awhile, once I pulled myself together."

"Understandable," Leah nodded.

"When I got to the Auror Department, Dennis was coming down the hall and he told me that Harry and Malfoy- remember I told you about him?"

"Ferret," Leah gave her a sharp nod of confirmation.

That brought a smile to her face. "Anyway, he told me that they were going to duel and, like an idiot, I went to watch."

"Why like an idiot?"

"Because I panicked. Part of me knew Harry wasn't in danger, but the rest of me just lost it. And then he was there, holding me and hushing me and it was like I was eighteen years old again and he was my entire world."

"That must have been- jarring."

"Unbelievably so. And I couldn't help it. I just ran, and I could tell how much it hurt his feelings but I couldn't stop myself."

Leah was quiet for several minutes. "Okay, it's not ideal. But also, he has experience with you and panic attacks, he must know how vulnerable they make you, he can't really blame you for wanting to get out of there."

"He probably thinks I've turned into some kind of nutcase."

Leah laughed long and loudly at that pronouncement.

"Don't laugh at me!" Hermione shouted, which only made Leah laugh louder.

"Nobody who's ever met you would think that you are a nutcase," Leah clarified, "dedicated to your work, maybe a little bit too much, and to the detriment of your social life but not crazy."

"I'm pathetic." She pounded her head against the back of the sofa.

"Okay, well, yes, you do look a little pathetic at the moment."

"Bitch," Hermione quipped with a swat of her hand in Leah's direction who just laughed.

"But no, you're a brilliant accomplished woman who also happens to have feelings. It's nothing to be ashamed of. So, what's your plan?"

"Go talk to him, bribe him with food," Hermione explained.

"It's a good plan." Leah grasped her wrist to stop her from mussing her curls. "Hermione, you know that you can't go on like this forever, right? It's going to tear you apart."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I support this plan to try and reconnect with him. But he's not your entire world anymore, he never really was, it just felt like it. You have a good life here, a fairly full life with a few exceptions, and he not only lives in England, but he's engaged. You need to find a way for him to be in your life, but move past him, or you need to cut him out completely, this limbo is not okay."

"I can't just stop loving him."

"No, and maybe you never will, you grew up loving him. But this is a big heart," she gently tapped Hermione's chest, "there's room for somebody else in there as well. I refuse to believe he's the only love you'll ever get."

"I hear what you're saying but…"

"I know, it'll take you awhile to accept the idea. Just keep that in mind, okay?"

"Yeah." She sat up more fully to rest her head against her friend's shoulder.

"And I'll be here for you, no matter what."

"Thank you," Hermione responded, bumping her cheek against Leah's shoulder. Not that she'd had any doubt about her friend's loyalty, but it was nice to hear.

"I mean I love you and all that," Leah continued, her tone lighter, "but mostly I just want to know if somebody's eyes can actually be that green in real life, and I've been waiting like three years to find out."

Hermione giggled, though it was subdued. "Just you wait. You'll be half-way in love with him too before he even gets all the way in the door."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to weestarmeggie for the beta read. And to all of y'all for reading, this is different than anything I've ever posted before in a few ways so it's especially reassuring and I love hearing from you all!


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The next morning Hermione sent Harry a memo asking him to lunch, and then she spent the next hour shuffling papers around her desk and pretending she wasn't worried about his reaction. She told herself that she was prepared for his rejection, that she'd given him every reason to be angry and cautious, or that he might already have plans. She told herself that if he told her 'no' that she would simply try again another time.

That didn't stop her from collapsing in relief against the back of her chair when his reply came 88 minutes later accepting her invitation.

She left for lunch early- a rarity- after releasing her hair from it's usual practical updo. It wasn't even vanity, at least she didn't think so, as she still wasn't overly fond of her curls. It was simply that this was how Harry knew her, and she hoped he'd see some of the Hermione he still recognized in her hair.

He was still in a meeting when she arrived in the Auror Department, which she had halfway expected. She hovered around the reception desk nervously hoping that nobody would question her but knowing that it was only a matter of time before somebody did, especially after her outburst the afternoon before. It would be couched in the form of concern but gossip was as rampant here as it was in any other workplace.

However, the restless few minutes proved themselves to be totally worth it when a group of people spilled out into the corridor and she immediately recognized Harry amongst them. She had the pleasure of watching him unnoticed and seeing how he was treated by the other aurors. The level of reverence he was granted in Britain had been somewhat disturbing to behold, not that she didn't think he was worthy, what he'd accomplished before he'd even turned eighteen was stunning- and she would know, she'd been there.

But the fact was that following the war so many people had continued to see him as the Boy-Who-Lived, a baby who had survived a tragedy like he was some mythical figure. They largely ignored the man he had become- or at least how hard he'd struggled to become that man.

She stood back and watched him interact with his American peers, as well as Malfoy, which was its own kind of mental gymnastics- not that she couldn't accept his presence, but it was weird to see him and Harry as colleagues. She smiled to herself at the respect with which Harry was treated. She'd kept up with Harry's career. She knew he deserved it. But this was her first time viewing it up close.

The group finally dispersed and he looked around expectantly- maybe even hopefully- until his eyes landed on her and she was certain her heart stopped as his face lit up. He started to walk towards her but stopped in his tracks.

"Hey."

"Harry." She had to stop herself from doing something unseemly and embarrassing like running and throwing herself into his arms. Instead, she walked at a moderate pace. And threw herself into his arms.

He didn't hesitate, his arms wrapped around her waist as hers went around his neck. She noticed immediately that she hadn't been mistaken, he was broader and more solid than he'd been the last time she'd embraced him.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I've been terrible," she breathed against his chest.

"You could never be terrible, Hermione Granger."

And the absurd, pathetic relief she felt over that simple statement convinced Hermione that Leah was right. She was going to have to find a way to move past her feelings for this wizard and love him in an appropriate manner, as one friend to another, or it would crush her. It had been crushing her, she'd just been avoiding the feeling.

"Are you okay, after yesterday?" He whispered, the question was clearly meant for her ears only.

She tilted her chin so that she could speak directly into his ear as well. "I'm fine, it was just a shock, you know?"

"Is that why you ran?"

She just nodded and prayed to every deity she'd ever heard of that he would leave it at that; he did, and didn't say anything else but squeezed her tighter.

Finally they pulled apart and she smiled at him sheepishly. "Welcome to America."

"You're not an American," he quipped in return. "But I suppose I can accept your welcome as an honorary citizen. You've been here long enough."

And with that awkwardness once again descended between them.

Hermione cleared her throat. "Was there anything in particular you wanted for lunch, I have a few ideas but if you have any requests…"

"I bow to your superior knowledge," he replied with something like an actual little bow.

Hermione swallowed at the sight. In the years she hadn't been paying attention Harry had apparently become...something like smooth. It suited him and she hated it; she'd missed so much. She took a deep breath and forced her thoughts back to the present.

"Umm, there's a deli down the street that I like, it's nothing fancy but they have fantastic sandwiches and that always used to be your prefered lunch food."

"It still is, now more than ever, actually. A heavy meal in the middle of the day isn't really conducive to my line of work."

"That makes sense," she nodded. "Well, I'm ready if you are."

He grinned and gestured in front of him. "Lead the way my lady."

She almost grabbed his hand to pull him along with her as she had so many times through the halls of Hogwarts or forests all over Britain, but she stopped herself just in time.

She felt his eyes on her the entire way down in the elevator and by the time they reached the ground floor she could no longer ignore it. "What?" She asked as they stepped out into the late summer sun.

"Your hair."

"What about it?" She raised a hand to pat it self-consciously.

"It got really long, I've never seen it like that before."

"Oh, yes, I grew it out, the extra weight keeps it from being quite so wild and I usually wear it up at work and I have more options with it long. Honestly, I wish I'd thought of that when I was a teenager."

"I like it," he nudged her gently with his elbow, "but then I've always liked your hair."

"Harry," she scoffed.

"I did, really. I know people used to tease you about it but it was just so 'Hermione.' Plus it made you easy to spot." He cringed. "That came out wrong, I just meant that it was unique to you."

She just nodded but was internally absurdly pleased by that simple sentiment.

"Is it lighter than it used to be? I don't remember it being so...golden."

She looked at him out of the corner of her eyes, this seemed like an odd conversation, but he was just strolling along, his hands clasped behind his back. "Yeah, a little, it's just natural highlights that have come out in it because there's more sun here, and I'm outside more often than I ever was at home. I didn't color it or anything."

"Well, it's pretty."

She looked at anything but him. "Thank you," she cleared her throat. "When did you become so observant, Harry Potter?" She was going for a light, joking tone but she was almost certain she didn't succeed.

"I'm an auror, it comes with the territory."

"I suppose that's true, and you're an excellent auror at that, your reputation precedes you."

"That's nice to hear," he shrugged off her compliment. "Anyway, noticing things about a beautiful woman has never been difficult, it just embarrassed me too much as a teenager to say anything about it."

"Oh," she gasped to herself, unable to think of a response to that. He had just called her beautiful, hadn't he? But luckily for her they'd reached the deli. "Well let me tell you a little about this place before we go in."

He chuckled. "By all means, Professor Granger, educate me."

* * *

Harry would never have admitted it but there had only been two things in his life that made him feel safe, happy, and at home: the first was Hermione Granger and the second was the Burrow. Hogwarts had been his first home but he had been through too much there over the years for that feeling to linger into adulthood.

Looking back, he knew that Hermione had been essential to him in so many ways and he never wanted to let that go. Which is why he had sought her out to get that back. But he was still unprepared for the depth of feeling that wracked his body when she finally, voluntarily embraced him for the first time in years. It knocked him off kilter and left him feeling a little stupid.

Then again, this was Hermione, and a large part of him was perfectly content not to question it, to simply stride along beside her, let her lead him wherever she thought was best, and listen to her go on about whatever struck her interest at the moment- at this moment it was telling him about the history of the deli she'd decided to take him to for lunch. He had absolutely not realized he'd missed that particular habit which had felt like such an annoyance during their Hogwarts years.

But he knew now that he'd never again begrudge her the way she loved to share her knowledge. Especially after witnessing the bright smile she gave him when she realized he was actually listening to her little lecture. It made him want to hug her again, he'd missed the way Hermione embraced him with her entire being.

When they were finally seated with their meals- Hermione had recommended the corned beef on rye, and she had not led him wrong- instead of concentrating on his food he found himself studying his best friend again. Both times he'd seen her the day before he'd been too upset to really look at her. But the fact was that Hermione Granger had grown into a startlingly beautiful woman.

He wasn't blind, she'd been a pretty girl, but she'd lacked a certain confidence which would have highlighted that fact, you had to look deep. Now she seemed to carry herself with an effortless grace that was so striking he'd been having a hard time keeping his eyes off of her since he'd spotted her waiting for him. Which is why he'd been confused when she seemed so flustered by his relatively mild compliments. Surely she heard that kind of thing, and much more, all the time? More than one man on the street had done a double take at the sight of her.

"Harry?" She startled him out of his reverie.

"Yes?"

"Do I have food on my face or something?" She wiped her cheeks with her napkin with comic exaggeration.

"No," he laughed. "Of course not, why?"

"You're staring. Lost in thought?" She asked with a soft smile.

"Oh," he scrambled for an excuse. "I guess I'm just taking it in, being here with you, you know? I mean, how many meals have we shared? And on one hand it feels like just yesterday since we did this all the time, and on the other is feels like it's been an eternity."

"Right," she said, looking down and fiddling with the edge of her plate.

He almost said something to make her feel better, but he was still more than a little angry with her, and while he knew it was probably very small of him, he wanted her to feel guilty. There was a long, uncomfortable silence before she looked up, a false smile on her face.

"So you must be excited to be here!"

"I'm sorry?" He asked, not understanding her meaning.

"Here, in New York, I mean there must be something really interesting about this assignment to have drawn you away from Ginny for six months."

Harry's stomach lurched uncomfortably at that pronouncement.

He bought time by popping a crisp into his mouth. "Kingsley is trying to forge a better relationship with the Americans," he explained when he'd finished chewing. "I'm sure you know that blood purity issues are a non-starter for them and we're still less than a decade out from a blood war. Malfoy and I-"

"It's good optics, I get it," she nodded, then cringed. "The-wizard-who-won or whatever they're calling you these days paired up with a former Death Eater sends the message that attitudes are actually changing in Britain."

He nodded.

"It's just, that just doesn't sound like you, basically doing PR for the Ministry." She paused, biting her lip. "But I suppose things are different, now that Kingsley is in charge."

"That's true." It was. Kingsley's government had made a lot of reforms and Harry believed in what they were trying to do. But as Malfoy, of all people, had pointed out just the day before, Harry still despised utilizing his fame and he never would have accepted this assignment for that reason alone. He eyed the way she was still worrying his lip, clearly trying to piece together this puzzle, it was such a familiar gesture the next words came pouring out of his mouth. "There's also the small matter of a best friend who I missed and who just so happens to live here."

Her eyes flew to his and for a moment he looked almost alarmed but then her features softened. "Oh, well I'm honored. And I'm happy you're here, have I said that yet?"

Harry's stomach lurched again. It felt like he'd gone from telling too little truth, to too much. He plastered a smile on his face.

"And I'm excited to explore the city. I think it's important to take the opportunity to travel and experience new things while I'm young, before I have a family. Ginny and I have both been lucky enough to have the chance to do that through our chosen careers." Harry wondered why that sounded like a canned speech even as the words were coming out of his mouth.

Hermione regarded him evenly and he felt as if she could see right through him. Five years ago she wouldn't have hesitated to call him on his lie- though even he couldn't quite pinpoint what that lie was. Today she planted her own obviously false smile on her face.

"Well I'd be happy to show you around." She bit her lip. "Though I'm not sure you'd enjoy a lot of the things I'd have to show you."

And all of a sudden Harry was annoyed. "I've grown up Hermione, I like museums, I even like libraries. You'd think the many books I've sent you over the years from my travels might have tipped you off to that. Though, if you could direct me to some good jogging trails, maybe even a place where I could join in a pick-up football game I would certainly appreciate that too."

"I'm sorry," she slumped in her seat. "It's like you said, sometimes it feels like just yesterday that we were doing our homework together in the common room, and sometimes it feels like an entire lifetime ago. I'm still trying to get it all straight in my head."

"Well," he sighed, "I guess we're going to have to be patient with each other."

She nodded and he imagined that he looked just about as miserable as she did in that moment.

"We should get back to work."

"Yeah," she agreed.

He stood and offered her his arm. She gave him a sad smile but took it and they set off together, which at least felt like one step in the right direction.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

It was in the middle of the afternoon that Friday when his phone buzzed, but Harry was just reading through some files, bringing himself up to date on an investigation the department was in the middle of conducting. And considering that his caller ID informed him that it was Ginny, and that he'd only spoken to her briefly a couple of times since he'd arrived in the U.S., he answered it.

"Hey Gin."

"Hey."

"How are you? I feel like we keep missing each other."

He heard her chuckle.

"We do. I'm sorry, I know it's still pretty early there but I thought I'd see if you were free."

"Just reading some reports, so I have a few minutes. How's training?"

"The usual with the Harpies, but that's actually why I called," there was a clear note of excitement in her voice.

"Why's that?"

"A representative from the English National Team was a practice today they want me to start training with them!"

"Oh wow, Gin, that's fantastic, congratulations!"

"Thanks, I'm really excited."

"You should be! And you've worked really hard, you've earned that spot."

"Well I don't have it yet, this is on a trial basis, I don't know if I'll make the roster, even as an alternate, but this is the first step."

"I have faith in you," he said, hoping the smile in his voice translated across the phone. "The Harpies don't mind you taking the time away?"

"No not at all. Actually, I thought Gwenog might kiss me when she heard the news." She giggled and his smile broadened. "This is great publicity for us, you know it's still rare for witches to be selected. And anyway, it's not full time. It will be more travel but you're there so I suppose it doesn't matter."

He heard this bitterness in her tone and suppressed a sigh. This was a constant source of tension in their relationship. It frustrated him that she traveled for her career but resented him for doing the same; while she didn't understand why he couldn't be an auror like her brother and just do domestic policing, why he took tough international assignments. They'd nearly broken up around the time Hermione had moved to New York as a result of their first argument over the issue.

He had been in auror training for just over a year- with another year to go- and he already knew that the traditional iteration of the job wasn't for him: issuing citations for improper wand usage and arresting people for petty crimes after the experience of defeating a dark lord just sounded ridiculous. He'd joined the corps because he wanted to make a difference, and that hadn't felt like making a difference. And then there had been the small matter of the fact that he was terrible at taking orders- which he really should have realized about himself much sooner.

So, he'd tested for and been accepted into the hit-wizard program with Magical Interpol which would include months of training on the continent, and the Ministry had been more than thrilled to send him for such specialized training. In hindsight, he probably should have at least told Ginny about it before he applied, but he wasn't used to consulting with people before he made decisions except for maybe Ron and Hermione, but that was different.

He'd been rather appalled when he realized that Ginny had basically expected him to use his fame to leverage himself into what amounted to a cushy desk job with an impressive title. She had argued that he'd already done enough for their world, that he shouldn't be putting himself in more danger, and he'd asked her if she knew him at all. The arrival of a letter from Hermione practically gushing with praise, telling him how proud she was of him for challenging himself and not taking the easy road had not helped matters one bit.

But when he'd mentioned that perhaps they should consider the months he'd be away as a break from their relationship, she'd cried and told him that she didn't want that at all. She apologized, and said that she realized that he deserved a partner who supported his career goals, especially given how supportive he'd been of her dream to play professional quidditch in the face of her mother's very vocal disapproval. Harry thought then that she had started to understand. And, well, he had never been very good at handling crying women.

So, he'd gone off to training with Ginny still holding the title of his girlfriend and when he came home they pretended it had never happened. Except in moments like these. He refused to rise to the bait.

"How are things there?" She eventually asked.

"Good," he sank into his chair. "I'm settling well. Everybody has been really welcoming and I like the city so far. It feels big, even compared to London. It's nice, being anonymous."

She laughed. "You could never be anonymous."

"What do you mean?"

"Just that you're Harry Potter, when you walk into a room people notice."

That had him sitting up straight again. "Maybe back home, but that's only because of all that Boy-Who-Lived, Golden Trio nonsense. It's not real, you know know that."

He heard a little huff from the other end of the line. "You underestimate yourself, you always have."

Harry shifted in his chair, trying to come up with a response, he didn't like it when she said things like that. It didn't happen often, but it was a little too reminiscent of the little girl who'd idolized him, and that made him highly uncomfortable, so he changed the subject. "The Malfoys are holding a party tonight to give us an opportunity to socialize with the department outside of work, meet their spouses, that kind of thing."

"That sounds nice."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure the new and improved Malfoy plan for world domination includes an obscene amount of booze and canapes." He heard a snort from across the office. "Hermione will be there," he blurted.

There was a long pause. "So you've seen her?"

"Well, yeah, we work in the same building, I wasn't just going to ignore her."

"Why not?" She asked, her voice deceptively calm. "She's been ignoring us."

"She's still my best friend, Ginny. I missed her and I wanted to see her. And I'm sure she had her reasons."

"Oh yeah, and what were they?"

Harry didn't say anything, because wasn't that a damn good question? And one he hadn't gotten the answer to. But he was beginning to wonder if he had any right to demand that Hermione explain herself. In so many ways it felt like out of all the people on the planet the very last person who owed him anything was Hermione Granger, and he was just happy to have her back. But then again, what if she pulled another disappearing act? He had no idea how to prevent that.

"Did you even ask?" Ginny continued to demand.

"She's entitled to her privacy," he said but he sounded sheepish and unconvincing even to his own ears.

"Right."

There was another uncomfortable pause.

"Okay, well, Mum just tried to floo so I should go see what she wants and you should probably get back to work."

It was the worst excuse Harry had ever heard, Ginny avoided her mother's floo calls like the plague. He let her get away with it though, he didn't have the energy for a fight and this was really not the place for it anyway.

"Oh, okay then," he agreed, trying to sound upbeat.

"I'll talk to you later, have fun tonight."

"Thanks, I love you."

"Love you too." She said the words, but there was absolutely no emotion in her voice.

The line went dead and he pulled the mobile away from his face and just stared at it.

"Trouble in paradise?" Malfoy drawled.

Harry nearly dropped his phone, he'd momentarily forgotten the other man was in the room. He turned to face him, Malfoy hadn't even looked up from his work.

"I don't know," Harry confessed.

Malfoy scribbled a few things in the margins of a report and then finally looked up and regarded Harry evenly, leaning back in his chair like he hadn't a care in the world. Harry felt himself growing irritated; the other wizard practically had a mastery in the art.

"Potter, if you don't know the answer to that question, then there is."

"I think she's still upset that I took this assignment."

"Really," he arched one brow, "because it didn't sound like things got frosty until you mentioned Granger."

Harry just shrugged.

"In my experience it's not wise to just bring up other witches out of the blue. If you do, your witch starts wondering if she has something to worry about."

"Really?" Harry snorted. "In your experience? Malfoy, I've seen you blatantly flirt with other women when your wife was standing right beside you."

"Well that's because Astoria is awesome. She understands it's just in my nature to flirt and that I would never cheat on her. Actually, I think she kind of enjoys watching me fluster other women knowing I'm coming home with her," he mused with a typical smirk.

"Merlin," Harry muttered. "There really is no end to your ego."

"But," Malfoy continued as if he hadn't been interrupted, "for witches in general it's true. And haven't you noticed that your fiancée is sensitive on the subject of Granger?" There was a pause. "Merlin why am I having to explain this to you? You and the Weaslette have been together forever, I think you were engaged before Astoria and I even started dating. And why are you still engaged, for that matter?"

"You think we should break up?" He blurted out of alarm. Because, despite himself, Malfoy actually knew him quite well. When he'd first become an auror many people had refused to work with Malfoy, Harry had been one of the few exceptions, so they'd been paired up fairly often, especially because Malfoy had always been given the least-desirable, most-dangerous assignments, whereas Harry had regularly volunteered for them. And then he'd realized that Malfoy was actually a good partner: smart, efficient, and- when it was called for- ruthless.

They were not friends. They weren't. But he trusted the man.

Malfoy's features fell into an expression of almost comical surprise. "Wow. Okay, that is not what I just said, but it's very interesting that's how you would interpret it."

Harry felt his neck grow hot and he removed his perfectly clean glasses and began to polish the lenses so that he had something to do with his hands. "What did you mean then?"

"Why aren't you married yet?"

"We're getting married next June." It was an automatic response and he knew it was the wrong thing to say when he saw Malfoy's exaggerated eye roll.

"That's not what I asked. Merlin, man, are you you purposefully misunderstanding me?"

Harry ground his teeth. "No, perhaps you're just not being specific enough."

"You've been engaged for how long?" Malfoy asked very slowly, like he was addressing a toddler.

"Three years."

"And you were a couple for how long before that?"

"Two years, plus that time during sixth year."

There was a beat of heavy silence. They both knew why the relationship had been interrupted. But even though they'd come a long way over the years, they had never, ever discussed that terrible night when Malfoy had let Death Eaters into Hogwarts and Dumbledore had died, and Harry very much doubted they ever would.

Malfoy cleared his throat. "Well, that's my point. Astoria and I have only been together a little over three years and we've already been married a year and a half. What's the hold-up with you two?"

"The timing just hasn't been right. And it takes a long time to plan a wedding."

"What do you mean, 'the timing hasn't been right?' And I know that you being you, there are certain expectations for any social event you might host, but you cannot tell me that your wedding would take longer to plan than a Malfoy wedding. Mother and Astoria don't even get along and they pulled it off."

Harry felt himself growing defensive but he couldn't figure out why. "We just haven't been able to find a date where one of us wasn't busy. We both have very demanding careers."

"I work the same job as you do Potter, most of the same assignments even. And Astoria was in the middle of her Charms mastery while she was planning our wedding."

"What's your point Malfoy!" He snapped.

He shook his head. "Look, I have a- grudging- respect for you. But most importantly my wife is fond of you in a way that sometimes makes me question her otherwise immaculate tastes. I just don't want to see you make a mistake you can't take back."

Well wasn't that just a bludger to the chest? "Are you telling me you think marrying Ginny is a mistake? Is this because she's a Weasley?"

"Don't insult me," he hissed, eyes narrowed, "I've never been anything but polite to your witch, at least since Hogwarts. And I'm not saying it's a mistake, I was just saying you should think about it because that conversation you just had with her was painful to listen to."

Harry opened his mouth but Malfoy interrupted. "I'm done with this conversation." There were a few beats of silence. "But Potter, my plan for world domination absolutely does not involve canapes."

Harry bit back a laugh and turned back to his work, but his gut was roiling.

Later that evening Harry was one of the first to arrive at the Malfoys suite for the party, considering that he was staying in a room just a few floors down. He and Malfoy had spent the afternoon pretending that they hadn't had a heart to heart like a couple of witches about the state of his relationship. But that didn't mean it had ever left his mind.

On one hand, Malfoy had a point. But on the other it had been Ginny and only Ginny since he was sixteen years old, that meant something, didn't it? It was probably just that, from the outside looking in, Malfoy couldn't really understand. The Weasleys were family, he belonged with them.

He heard Hermione before he saw her, he would have known her voice anywhere. He looked up to see her strolling into the room, led by Astoria, her arm linked with another witch's who strangely reminded him of Luna Lovegood, though they really didn't look very much alike aside from both having long blonde hair. She just had a calm aura about her that was very reminiscent of his old friend.

Given their body language he could immediately tell that she and Hermione were close, which warmed his heart. Looking back on it, he was fairly certain she'd been starved of female companionship at Hogwarts. She'd been so wrapped up in his problems, she'd had little time for anything else. And while she and Ginny had been friends, the fact of the matter was that Ginny was almost two years younger than Hermione and he could now see that theirs had been much more like a mentor/mentee relationship than an equal friendship; and, of course, her roommates had never been any match for her.

But it wasn't his desire to watch her interact with her friend that had him frozen in place, it was all the skin she had on display. She wasn't dressed obscenely by any means. In fact, she looked elegant in a deep purple dress which was tied around the neck, displaying her back. It hugged her curves but it wasn't too tight- as if she was begging for attention- and fell to just above her knees. He'd simply never seen her like this before. Between the old-fashioned nature of fashion in magical Britain, and the fact that the climate in Scotland where they'd spent most of their time together was fairly unforgiving, he'd never seen her dressed so scantily.

"Gods man, shut your mouth before she sees you!" Somebody hissed into his ear. "It's like you've never seen a woman before."

He turned to look at the other wizard he'd been having a drink with before Hermione arrived. Malfoy's eyes went wide when he met his gaze.

"Oh shite," he muttered.

"What?"

Malfoy just shook his head.

"What!" He slammed his glass down on the table beside him.

Malfoy didn't flinch, just stared at him until he met his eyes again. "Harry, trust me, this is something you're going to have to figure out for yourself."

The use of his first name, which he'd only heard Malfoy utter perhaps a handful of times before- at least three of those instances had been to get his attention to warn him that they were about to be ambushed- brought him up short and kept him from making further demands.

Instead, his eyes drifted back to Hermione and he ignored the sigh he heard from beside him.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Hermione was surprised to hear that she had a visitor waiting in the reception area of her department. Anybody who would normally visit her at work was a friend whom she'd already approved, or somebody who worked in the building and didn't need clearance.

And when she spotted Astoria Malfoy she was doubly surprised.

"Astoria, hello!" She called.

The other woman's head shot up and she smiled. "I hope I'm not bothering you."

"Of course not, come on back," Hermione waved her through.

Hermione noticed the way the taller witch looked around with clear interest as she led them towards her office. When they reached it, instead of rounding her desk and sitting behind it she placed herself in one of the two chairs meant for visitors, motioning for Astoria to take a seat next to her.

Due to her unexpected appearance, Hermione had been counting on Astoria to start the conversation, certain she had a specific purpose. However, the other witch appeared nervous, just fiddling with the straps of her handbag and Hermione took pity on her. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Hermione asked after a few moments of silence.

"Thanks for seeing me, especially when I just dropped by unannounced."

"Of course, it's no trouble. What can I do for you?" Hermione answered.

Astoria, finally seemed to regain her bearings; looking up, squaring her shoulders and meeting Hermione's eyes. "Well, first of all, I wanted to invite you to a party Draco and I are holding Friday night. It's meant as sort of a get-to-know-you do with the auror corps."

Hermione hesitated. She wasn't strictly opposed to the idea, much of her work focused on creating equipment for law enforcement, which meant that she often worked with and socialized with aurors. But she also didn't want to accept an invitation made only out of obligation.

"I'm not an auror," she prevaricated.

"No, but you seemed pretty friendly with them and-" Astoria bit her lip and leaned towards Hermione. "Honestly, I'd consider it a favor. I'm not my mother-in-law, these things don't exactly come naturally to me, and if you were there it would be one more person I already knew, somebody for me to actually talk to."

Hermione just stared at her and then she started to giggle at the woman's utterly artless attempt at manipulation. "Well, now I know why you weren't sorted into Slytherin with your sister, that wasn't subtle at all."

Astoria flushed and looked away.

Hermione immediately felt guilty over her mirth and her own predictably obvious reaction. "I'm sorry," she said, "I shouldn't laugh, your straightforwardness is actually really refreshing. But just to be clear, would you like me to come or do you just feel obligated to invite me because of Harry? Because you needn't."

Astoria still wouldn't look at her but Hermione saw her lips twitch. "And if I had any doubts, now I'd know why you're a Gryffindor." She finally looked up. "I'd really like for you to come, but I do have an ulterior motive for being here."

Hermione sat back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest, intrigued. "Alright, hit me with it."

"Draco travels often, but he's never been stationed away for this long before. So, I was anxious to come along. I told myself it would be an adventure." She grimaced and seemed to consider her next words before covering her face with one hand in apparent embarrassment. "There's no point in lying to you. I haven't even been here a week and I'm already bored out of my mind," she confessed in the rush of one breath.

"And you're looking for a solution?"

When Astoria laughed self-consciously Hermione joined in.

"While there are many things to do around here," Hermione gathered herself to respond, "even when unemployed, I can also understand the sentiment. But I don't understand what this has to do with me?"

"Well, according to Harry, you've lived here for years, so you know the lay of the land. And you also know me, even if it's only a little. I just thought you might have some recommendations for things I could do to occupy my time, and I guess I'm taking advantage of this opportunity to pick your brain."

Hermione considered this. "May I ask what you do at home?"

"Charity work," she answered immediately, with a self-deprecating laugh, but then she took a breath. "Also, I have my Charms mastery and I do a great deal of private research, but I just don't have access to the same resources here that I do at home to continue that in the same capacity."

Hermione felt her eyes go wide in surprise. A mastery was impressive for anybody, but for a pure blooded witch like Astoria who had no need to work for a living, it was especially remarkable.

"Well I could make you a list, I'm very good at lists."

Astoria smiled. "I remember that, you were an even more organized taskmaster than Professor McGonagall."

Their eyes met and they shared a laugh.

"However, I kind of want to scoop you up for myself," Hermione continued.

"Pardon me?"

"A charms mistress who- unless I'm very much reading you wrong- has no interest in climbing the ladder but is simply interested in the cerebral aspects of the work, and actually maybe making a difference? You're basically a dream come true."

An expression flashed across the other woman's face in that moment- one that resembled a child with her hand caught in the cookie jar.

Once more, Hermione considered the situation. "It was Harry's idea for you to come and ask me about this, wasn't it? He probably even suggested I could give you a job," she eventually concluded.

"I...maybe."

"You really could have just asked."

Astoria regained her composure quickly, sitting up with perfect posture. "I appreciated Harry's suggestion, but just as you didn't want to be invited to a party out of obligation, I certainly didn't want to be offered a job out of one."

Hermione let out a startled laugh. "But surely you know that Harry would never have suggested such a thing unless he thought you were worthy."

"Him, but not you," Astoria countered.

"Point taken," Hermione conceded. "However, Harry has always had a knack for making brilliant, intuitive leaps. If I asked him why he thought you would be a good fit down here I'm sure he would say something utterly ineloquent like: 'Astoria's smart, you're smart, it just makes sense.'" She rolled her eyes. "But his instincts usually have a good basis in fact."

"Draco's basically said as much." The other woman immediately colored and looked at her lap. "I really can't say more than that."

"It's okay," Hermione soothed, "I understand, and I'm not going to accuse your husband of breaching confidentiality, commenting on your partner's general nature really doesn't qualify anyway."

"Thank you," she answered quietly.

"Merlin but they've treated Malfoy like shit at home, haven't they?"

Sometimes she was ashamed of the way she'd essentially fled Britain, there was still a lot of work to do in building an equitable government and she'd walked away from that.

The younger witch just shrugged but was obviously not prepared to comment on this thought. "I'd be happy for anything you have for me to do, I really am bored," Astoria responded instead.

Hermione decided not to press the issue. "Well, we're not hiring at the moment and my budget is stretched to the max, so all I can offer you is an internship, especially as you'll only be here for six months anyway. But if you're willing to subject yourself to a full background check and a secrecy vow I could give you access to most of our research and you can play around all that you like," she finished with a wink.

Astoria smiled. "That's fine," she added, apparently in a rush to assure her, "I'd be happy to," she practically bounced in her seat.

Hermione laughed, remembering why she'd felt a kindred spirit in such an otherwise poised and collected individual- somebody she usually would have considered to be her total opposite. "Let me give you a tour before you make a decision."

"You'll come to the party no matter what though, right?"

Hermione laughed again and rounded the desk to take the other woman's arm.

"I hope we can be friends again, no matter what. And I'm honestly chomping at the bit to see your husband and my best friend mingle together in polite company."

Astoria patted her hand. "My experience with aurors keeps me from terming them 'polite company.'"

"Touché," Hermione laughed.

"Also," Astoria added, "and if you ever tell them I said this I'll deny it…"

"The aurors, oh I have a millions secrets from those bullheaded idiots."

Astoria laughed. "I meant Harry and Draco specifically."

"Oh, well keeping a secret from them would be my specific pleasure," Hermione's lips curled in amusement as she led Astoria out of her office.

* * *

 "You look hot," Leah greeted Hermione when she spotted her outside of the hotel where the Malfoys were apparently staying, and therefore holding their party, that Friday night. Astoria had encouraged Hermione to bring a friend to the party, Hermione had decided that she didn't care if the other woman had only been being polite, she needed back-up.

Hermione just shrugged. She'd been to some Malfoy hosted events after the war. And while she already knew the younger couple were quite different from their older counterparts, and she hadn't thought cocktail attire was necessary, she had still expected this gathering to be more formal than a typical auror get together. For instance, she doubted there would be a keg. So, she had dressed appropriately.

"Dressed up for somebody?" Leah continued, her voice mocking but with a hint of warning, and linking her arm with Hermione's.

"I just wanted to look nice," Hermione demurred.

"Uh-huh," her friend responded. She let the issue go as they entered the lobby, but tugged on their linked arms in a manner Hermione knew was meant to be simultaneously playful and reassuring.

They rode up to the penthouse in silence but Leah gave her a reassuring squeeze as they stepped off of the elevator.

"Okay?" She wondered.

Hermione nodded.

Astoria opened the door to the suite after they knocked, her face carefully blank before it broke into a smile when she spotted who was standing outside.

"Hi," she breathed, looking some combination of anxious, excited, and defeated. Hermione couldn't help but wonder if her assertion about not being the hostess her mother-in-law was, was even more true than she'd originally believed, but her greeting seemed genuine. "I'm so glad you're here!"

She drew Hermione into a hug and Hermione felt like she could feel the sincerity in the other woman's embrace. She knew that she could trust the other woman's academic credentials, she'd already checked on those. But she was still deciding if she simply trusted her.

She realized that she very much wanted to.

She carefully pulled away and introduced Astoria to Leah. The two other witches greeted each other cheerfully and when they were through, Hermione linked arms with Leah again while Astoria preceded them into the suite.

"Sweet merciful Merlin," Leah muttered.

Hermione couldn't help but agree. Their surroundings couldn't be described as anything other than opulent. The suite boasted an almost incomparable view of the Manhattan skyline.

However, one glance at her friend led her to realize that she was mistaken, Leah's exclamation wasn't a result of their surroundings. Her gaze had settled on two wizards who were rather conspicuously standing in a group which consisted only of the two of them: Harry and Malfoy. She also knew that she'd described Harry, and that Leah had seen enough pictures over the years to have easily identified him on sight.

"Leah," she hissed.

"Do all English wizards look like that? Because if you've been holding out on me, I'll have your head," Leah replied, making no attempt to keep quiet.

Hermione felt herself flush while Astoria giggled, all the time acting as the consummate hostess and leading them to an empty seating area.

They were almost immediately followed by said wizards- though Hermione hoped that Malfoy was simply seeking out his wife and that Harry was following him, as they should have been far enough away not to hear Leah's proclamation.

Harry stepped forward to embrace her immediately and she made an effort not to embarrass herself by clinging to him too desperately. It was just that she'd missed him, but she'd done that to herself, and he was not hers to hold onto.

She stepped back.

"Harry Potter, this is my friend Leah McAlister, Leah, this is Harry," she gestured between them.

"The famous Harry Potter," Leah greeted, holding out her hand.

She actually saw the light fade from Harry's eyes but he gamely held out his own hand- albeit reluctantly. Luckily Leah noticed it too, she gasped.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean that the way that it sounded. I just meant famous to me, because of how much Hermione has talked about you, not because of- oh I'm making a mess of this- but all that other terrible stuff!"

Hermione wanted to melt into the floor but that seemed to do the trick for Harry who was immediately gracious and personable once more. "I'm afraid to say I haven't heard as much about you as Hermione's seen fit to tell you about me."

There was a beat of uncomfortable silence before Malfoy cleared his throat.

"Potter."

"Oh, right."

"Draco Malfoy, may I introduce my friend Hermione Granger, Hermione, this is...Malfoy."

Hermione frowned and eyed the blond's outstretched hand warily. Surely Harry wouldn't lead her into a trap, no matter how angry he was with her, but what were they playing at? She looked back and forth between them, especially concerned when she saw that even Astoria seemed hesitant.

"We've known each other since we were eleven Malfoy," she eventually stated, and she kept her own hands carefully at her sides.

"Right, I know," he looked around, obviously gauging their fellow party-goers interest in this conversation, but they mainy just seemed interested in getting drunk on the free booze. "I was actually hoping we could pretend that never happened."

"No." It was an automatic response.

The light in his eyes dimmed and she heard Harry hissing her name from beside her.

She huffed out a breath. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that the way it sounded. It's just that those who forget history are doomed to repeat it," she said. "We've been through so much, it would be a disservice to us both to pretend like we haven't. So, while I can't forget our history, and I truly believe it would be foolish and ultimately futile to try and do so, I would be happy to start over," she extended her own hand in Malfoy's direction and she saw understanding dawning in his eyes.

He nodded and accepted her hand. "Draco, please, my friends call me Draco."

"Harry calls you Malfoy."

"Harry isn't a pretty witch," he winked at her.

She couldn't help it- out of amusement or, just utter weirdness over the situation- she laughed.

He soon joined her but he didn't let go of her hand. "Too much, too soon?" He wondered.

"A little," she admitted, "kind of like entering the Twilight Zone." His baffled look only had her chuckling again. "Let me go so that I can get a drink and sit down, and I'll explain the reference."

His eyes went wide and he looked down to where he was still clasping her hand. "My apologies Granger."

Harry cleared his throat and placed an arm around her shoulders before leaning in and quietly humming the Twilight Zone theme song into her ear. His breath tickled pleasantly against her cheek and she struggled not to show the effect it had on her.

As inconspicuously as possible with Harry so near, Hermione let out a long breath. She knew that he didn't actually have any idea what he was doing, but that didn't really make things any better. No, his sweet, innocent affection was going to make this harder than ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience, and thank you Weestarmeggie for the last minute read!


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The Malfoys sat with them for a few minutes before departing to continue playing host and hostess. Harry remained seated next to Hermione and eyed the other woman who had become his best friend's best friend. Leah regarded him in return, her gaze was not unfriendly, but it was… calculating and Harry wondered what Hermione had told her about him to make her look like that.

"Have you been telling tales on me, Mione?"

"Huh?"

He leaned in and said in a stage whisper: "Leah's looking at me like she knows a secret."

He meant it in jest but was treated to the sight of Hermione turning almost tomato red as she squirmed underneath the arm he had draped across her shoulders.

"Oh Merlin!" He exclaimed, "I was kidding, but now I'm rethinking because of how many embarrassing things you know about me!"

He'd really just wanted to make her laugh and wasn't sure how he felt about the hysterical half-giggle, half-sob which came out of her mouth.

"Well, Hermione and Luna say you're really something on a broomstick, if something of a maniac- at least according to Hermione- Luna thinks you're as graceful as a thestral, which is a real compliment coming from her," Leah's words interrupted his thoughts.

Hermione now had both hands covering her face, and he was doubly intrigued, but Hermione looked so absolutely mortified that he decided not to press the issue and just responded to Leah's not-so-subtle segue.

"Well I do love to- wait, you know Luna?"

Leah pointed to herself. "Magizoologist, we're not a very big community. And considering that I know Hermione…"

"She's never said anything."

"Knowing Luna, it would never have occurred to her," Leah chuckled.

"True," responded Harry and Hermione, almost in tandem.

"Well," Harry began, "that doesn't sound so bad, if you know Hermione at all you know how she feels about brooms. Also, I am the Chosen One so she really couldn't have said anything too terrible about me."

Hermione leaned forward, picked up a magazine from the coffee table, and before he could squirm away from her whacked him on the top of the head with it.

"Still making that terrible joke I see."

"Still hitting me for it, I see," he mocked in return, rubbing his head dramatically.

She elbowed him in the ribs and he could only laugh.

"You know, I was going to ask if you'd always been so violent but I know you have been."

"Shut up, I am not!" She protested.

"Why don't we ask Malfoy about that, shall we?" He smirked.

"Wait, what?" Interrupted Leah, "What does that mean?"

Hermione groaned and Harry felt his face split into a grin. "Oh Leah, let me tell you some stories about our sweet little Hermione here. Has she ever told you about a woman named Rita Skeeter?"

Hours later the party was winding down. Leah had left with an auror Hermione told him with a roll of her eyes that she had an on-again, off-again thing with. He and Hermione were still on the same couch and had a steady stream of people come by to speak with them for most of the party- apparently their history was well enough known within the MACUSA community, that their colleagues were very curious to see them together, at least most of them attempted to be subtle though- but they were finally alone. Hermione was slumped against his side.

"Hey," he nudged her before she could fall asleep on him. "Are you ready to go home?" It was honestly the last thing he wanted, he'd been hoping to get some time to talk with her alone tonight.

"Oh, um, not really Harry."

"Are you sure?" He smiled as she blinked blearily at him.

She shrugged. "You're warm and comfortable, I sort of got lulled into a trance. But I don't want to go home, I feel like I've barely seen you tonight. I mean I know I've been sitting here with you this whole time but-"

"No, I know exactly what you mean."

"Are you tired?" She asked him in return.

"No, I was actually wondering if you would like to go for a swim?"

"A swim?"

"Well, it's pretty late, so there's not a lot open. A bar isn't exactly good for having a conversation, and I don't know about you but I've had enough to drink. I'd ask you to my room but… honestly there's not really much there. I just thought a swim sounded nice. It's one of my favorite things to do now that I have a pool at home and the hotel pool should be empty at this hour."

Harry had not been a strong swimmer as a child. It's not as if the Dursleys had gotten him lessons, in fact Dudley hadn't even had lessons, that would have been far too much like exercise. But after the war when he'd discovered he had an ancestral home with a beautiful, magically heated pool, it had become one of his favorite hobbies and an excellent way to stay in shape. The pool was a major factor in his decision to take Astoria's recommendation and book this hotel even though it cost substantially more than his housing stipend.

"Okay," she rolled her shoulders. "You just surprised me. I don't have a suit though."

"Are you a witch or what?"

She froze, obviously taken aback, then narrowed her eyes at him but he saw the corner of her lips begin to curve upward.

"Point taken. I'll just go transfigure my clothes and then we can go?"

"Are you asking permission or…"

"Merlin, have you always been this much of a smart arse?"

"I once told Professor Snape that he didn't need to call me 'sir.'"

She just stared at him until she burst out laughing. "I forgot about that," she choked out even as she attempted to muffle her giggles with her hand. "I was actually worried about your safety when you said that! If looks could kill you would have been dead right there."

She kissed him on the cheek, he froze and he saw her eyes go wide and he realized that she hadn't registered what she had done, until after she'd done it. He had forgotten how casual Hermione could be with her affection. But he squeezed her to him to let her know that he wasn't upset by her actions and then let her go so that she could stand.

She went to the bathroom and when she emerged her purple dress was a loose purple cover-up and her heels a casual pair of flip-flops. They said good-bye to their hosts and then she followed him down to his room so that he could change as well. Then they made their way to the pool.

When Hermione lifted her cover-up over her head Harry froze. And he'd thought she had a lot of skin on display earlier. He didn't know what he'd expected. Hermione was a muggle born witch and a modern woman, of course she wouldn't wear the kind of swimming suits the women in magical Britain favored. The kind of things which wouldn't have been out of place in the muggle world in the 1920s.

But he had not been prepared for the sight of his best friend in a bikini. It was a red and Harry couldn't stop himself from wondering if that had been the color of her underwear before she'd transfigured it. He quickly looked away and tried to banish that thought as he removed his own shirt, but when he looked up she was the one staring...at his crotch.

He cleared his throat and her head shot up. "You got a tattoo."

He looked down at himself and sure enough, his shorts had ridden low enough that the tip of his tattoo was visible peeking out of the waistband at his right hip. Very few people knew about it, he had always intended to keep it private. That was the reason he'd had it placed where he had and why he'd had it done in the muggle world. But it seemed like fate that Hermione had noticed it, and he was struck that the thought that it was something he wanted to share with her.

He carefully peeled the waistband of his trunks down to reveal the small rendition of the symbol of the Deathly Hallows he'd had permanently inked on his skin.

"Oh!" She gasped. "May I-" she reached for him, but before she could touch him she snatched her hand back as if it had been burned. She looked up at him, eyes wide. "I'm sorry, that would have been inappropriate. I was just curious, and surprised."

He cleared his throat and shuffled his feet. "It's okay. I know it probably seems odd."

"No!" She exclaimed. "No, it makes perfect sense."

"It does?"

"It does," she nodded. "It's a reminder to do what's right rather than what's easy, just like you did when you chose to keep pursuing the horcruxes instead of the hallows. Any other wizard would have been in a race with Voldemort for the death stick."

She licked her lips and took a deep, shuddering breath. He could only stare at her.

"And it's also a symbol of everything you've accomplished. Like your parents gravestone says: 'The last enemy to be destroyed is death.' You did that Harry," her voice was so earnest and she reached out and took his hand. "And not because of any of this Master of Death nonsense, but because you chose to give your own life for those that you loved. You weren't like Voldemort, choosing to cling to life no matter the price, and yet you came back to us anyway. Death can't touch you now, not really, when it's your time you'll welcome him like an old friend. That kind of strength...I just think it's utterly appropriate that you have a mark of that on your body. A mark that you chose."

She reached up and traced his infamous, though thankfully now faded lightning bolt scar. Then she let out a sob and threw herself at him. He put his arms around her and tucked her head under his chin, letting out a shuddering breath of his own.

"I think you're giving me more credit than I deserve," he finally choked out.

"Shut up," she ordered.

Of course she had understood, she had articulated it even better than he could have. Had understood his intentions better than he himself had, though he really did think she was giving him too much credit.

Ginny thought he'd had it done in commemoration of his victory, and he hadn't had it in him to correct such a gross misconception. She and the entire Weasley family saw that day very differently than he did. He'd actually almost become physically ill when Bill's first child had been born on the second anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts and they'd named her 'Victoire.' Why would they want a daily reminder of such a terrible event?

Harry and Hermione stood there for a long time, clinging to each other, her tears running down his bare chest until Harry started to become very aware that there was a beautiful, half-naked woman wrapped around him.

He wiped her cheeks with the pad of his thumb and smiled for her, she just seemed to manage one in return. "Come on, these weren't the kind of waterworks I was hoping for when I invited you to go for a swim," he said, releasing her and diving straight into the pool. He made several laps before coming back up and looking around for her.

She was in the pool now too, treading water in the deep end. He swam towards her.

She gave him a smile, though it was still tremulous. "That was a terrible joke Harry. Have you always been this lame?"

"Most people find me very impressive, thank you very much," he answered, splashing some water in her direction.

She screeched and sputtered and splashed him back and they began a splash fight. Hermione was a strong swimmer but Harry had the advantage of both size and reach and was able to corner her in the shallow end, and then he pounced. He snagged her around the waist, slung her over his shoulder and tossed her several feet away.

"Watch your back Harry Potter," she said when she popped back up, wagging a finger in his direction. "I will get you back for that," she threatened, but the effect was rather ruined by the fact that she was grinning.

Harry allowed himself to feel satisfied that he'd cheered her up so easily. "Ohhh, I'm absolutely terrified of the tiny witch," he taunted.

"You should be, after all the stories you told Leah you obviously haven't forgotten what I'm capable of."

They grinned at each other and Harry found himself reflecting on how effortless is was to be around her. That hadn't always been the case, they'd had some truly awkward times as teenagers, but after the war it was like they'd both let their walls crumble around each other and now it almost felt as if no time had passed since then; which was a thought that sobered him.

"Hermione, I need to say something and then we never have to talk about this again, but I need to get it out."

Her face fell and she swam closer to him. "Okay, you can say anything to me Harry."

"I was talking to Ginny earlier and mentioned that I'd seen you. She asked me if you'd explained why you just disappeared from our lives," she opened her mouth and he held up his hands to stop her. "You can tell me of course, if you want to to talk about it, but I'm not going to attempt to force the issue, it's your business. It occurs to me that you might not even know yourself. We all handled the years after the war differently, and sometimes that kind of trauma- you just do things that don't make much sense. But here's the thing."

She nodded.

"You can't do it again, I wouldn't be able to handle it. So just give me your word, because if I have your word, I know you'll keep it."

She held his gaze despite the tears forming in her eyes. "You have my word, you're never getting rid of me again Harry Potter. Come hell or high water or, well, another dark lord, I'm right here with you."

"Thank you," he swallowed thickly. "I needed to hear that." He took a breath and made a conscious effort to shake off the heavy feeling in his chest. "So," he smiled, "when are you going to show me around this new city of yours?"

She blinked and he just knew that she was seeing straight through him, but she graciously let it go. "I'm not busy this weekend, how about we get started then?"

"That sounds perfect."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Weestarmeggie for beta reading and to all of you for reading!


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

"Wait, help me understand this," Harry said, popping the rest of his hotdog into his mouth. "You're trying to figure out a way to channel a person's core magic, like it's a wand core?"

"Yes, essentially." Hermione nodded. "I just don't see why you should have to rely on the sheer power of your magic to cast wandlessely, we all did it as children long before we were at our full magical 's significant literature to suggest that wands were actually designed to limit and control us. Or at least wandlore laws were written that way. Before those, wands were considered to be something more like akin to a scope on a rifle; an option which was very useful in some situations, but not strictly necessary. I understand where the term 'focus' came from, now."

He appeared lost in thought and she knew that he didn't fully understand everything that she was attempting to explain to him, but she didn't mind. Harry wasn't stupid, but he also wasn't a scholar; academics simply weren't what drove him. He needed to be out there, doing something, making a visible difference. But despite that, he was standing here really listening to her, and enthusiastically asking questions. He was truly intrigued by the job that meant so much to her, and that alone was everything in her mind.

"It's ambitious," she demurred when he remained silent. "It may come to nothing."

"Hermione," he stated emphatically, reaching over and covering her hand with his on the rail of the ferry. "It's amazing. It's revolutionary."

"It's a side project," she tucked the hair that had been pulled out of her chignon by the wind whipping around them, behind her ear, embarrassed by his effusive praise. "I can't use too many resources on it for that reason, but the sheer scope of the nature of it is pretty exciting. If we could get in touch with our magic in that way… for instance, it could completely change the way that we view squibs. They don't have enough magic to channel through a wand, but that doesn't mean that they don't have any, or that they couldn't use it in certain ways. In fact, it has the potential to completely change the way we think about magical beings as a whole." She shrugged.

"Hermione," he said as he reached out again to touch her arm, his voice low, despite the fact that they'd cast a charm to ensure that nobody took any notice of their conversation. "Even if it turns out to be wrong, it's a brilliant idea, and definitely something worth exploring. You should be proud of yourself and your ingenuity. But in my experience your theories seem to work out. And more often than not they save my arse." He bumped her shoulder with his and she smiled at him and ducked her head.

"You gave me the idea," she admitted.

"Me?"

"Well you, and what you were able to do, despite that thing in your head," she clarified.

He looked alarmed.

She held up her hands. "I'll never, ever tell anybody what actually happened or what it was, I swear. Much less write it down. I would never expose you in that way. But it still seemed important."

He let out a long breath and nodded. "Okay, I can understand that."

"Those of us who knew you also knew that you were powerful, even from the very beginning of your time at Hogwarts," she continued to explain. "You had a large dose of luck on your side, but you have always been an impressive wizard, and I don't just mean magically," she shot him a smile. "Though I am primarily referring to your magical power at the moment."

He nodded again.

"For years you still managed to find your magic and wield it impressively, despite that terrible dark thing in your head. I thought maybe, after it was all over, that we were missing something about that fact. You're powerful, Harry, and as I said impressive in many ways. But as inhibited as you were, it didn't make sense to me that you could use your magic as effectively as you did if the prevailing theories were really correct, at least."

"I've never considered that," he admitted.

"I just thought maybe that's what you'd been doing all along to overcome it, bypassing your wand, drawing from your core. I know how it handicapped you when your wand was broken but- especially given the circumstances- that easily could have been psychosomatic, or just plain exhaustion."

He snorted. "Definitely a possibility. Gods but that was a shite time."

She smiled at him sadly but continued her thought. "It might be silly. But I thought it was worth looking into. There's so little research on wand making, and on top a few suspicious texts about how some wand makers might have suppressed the knowledge about how our magic works to forward their craft, especially within Europe, I thought it should be explored. Because it is an undisputed fact that some cultures don't use wands as all."

He smiled at her. "That brain of yours is really something."

"Thank you," she dipped her head and then raised it again, along with one of her hands which she used to touch the ridiculous headpiece he was wearing.

They were on a ferry headed towards the Statue of Liberty. Harry had bought them each a tacky styrofoam headpiece shaped like the crown which Lady Liberty wore, insisting that if they were going to be tourists for the day, then they would do it properly. She had thought she'd feel silly, but she really just felt young and carefree; and Harry looked hilarious with his hair sticking up behind the spikes of the styrofoam tiara, which made any embarrassment she might have otherwise felt totally worth it.

In fact, she'd called him adorable when he'd placed it on his head. He had pretended to pout and demanded that she come up with a more manly adjective. She'd refused.

Harry had been asking her about her work since he'd arrived at her apartment to pick her up for the day. She hadn't thought he'd be interested in the details. But apparently one of his American counterparts had told him that she'd led the team responsible for developing a new kind of shielding device that was part shield and part coat and which was made with a potion infused thread. She'd gotten the idea from the Weasley twins, but it had taken her years to come up with something which would actually shield a person from any but the most minor curses.

Harry had been effusive in his praise and after that he had wanted to know everything. It made sense that he was curious, he had always admired things that were practically applicable. It was just that in their past, her knowledge had generally been much more theoretical and so his interest had been limited. It stung a little.

They stood close to each other, now quiet and still as they crossed the harbor, and they continued to be silent as they departed the ferry. As they strode around Liberty Island she started to wonder if she was being unfair. He'd forgiven her a lot, and could she really blame him for being a more discerning and curious adult than he'd been as a child? Or for being primarily concerned by his very survival?

So, she asked him more about his work and how he enjoyed it.

"I love the travel." He answered immediately, grinning at her.

"I didn't realize you wanted to travel," she responded. "And I think after you discovered Potter House, part of me thought you'd never leave it behind. You were so happy there. Content in a way that I'd never seen from you before."

"Me either," he laughed, "until I started doing it. I had so little experience of traveling, other than our little hide and seek act during the war, which was fairly miserable, wouldn't you say?"

It had been. Still, Hermione again felt stung by his comments- which was absurd. Still, she had been largely responsible for the so-called 'hide and seek.'

"And I think after being so repressed by Riddle my whole life," he continued, "I yearned for something bigger. And discovering Potter House actually helped, because I had a place to come home to just like my ancestors had for generations. It grounded me and made me feel free to explore, you know?"

Hermione smiled at him, recalling the sheer joy he'd expressed to her after discovering his ancestral home. It was such a distinct and irreplaceable tie to his history. She had been thrilled for him when she'd heard of it. It had taken almost two years negotiation with the Goblins before Harry had been allowed access to the old Potter vaults after the war and their break in for him to gain access to his full inheritance. She'd done her best to aid him, given that she'd been as involved in the robbery as he had been, but it turned out that her presence in his meetings with the Horde had done more harm that good, so she'd backed off.

Harry had eventually prevailed and she'd felt unspeakably proud of him for fighting for his heritage and winning. She'd told him as much. But she'd been in New York by then, and she wondered now if her words by letter had meant anything in the face of her physical absence.

To her eternal shame she'd seen Potter House only once, and just briefly, on one of her few trips back to Britain since her move. She'd adored the Georgian home, large but not ostentatious, and somehow perfectly fitting for Harry. She fully expected to watch him build a family there.

"Is that all?" She wondered, shaking herself out of her thoughts, "all you like about your job, I mean."

"Well, the things to do with the travel, and the parts of the job that have allowed me to experiment with my magic. And, of course, it feels good to be making a difference."

"It does sound very interesting," she conceded, "I worry for you, but I understand."

"I'm careful."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Don't lie to me Harry Potter," she snapped, jabbing a finger at him.

He rolled his eyes, but when he ducked his head in response she got the distinct feeling that her concern actually pleased him.

"I'm as careful as I can be, I promise. I don't have a death wish."

She allowed that. For a moment- and because he was kind enough not to call her out on her own failings- she let herself believe that he was as careful as he could possibly be when he was on the job.

But she knew, deep down, that it was nonsense; even while he probably believed it was true. His hero complex was truly epic.

"And the dark wizard hunting?" She wondered.

He glanced at her, a question in his eyes.

"I'm just wondering if you feel, I don't know, fulfilled? I know there was some talk of you being an auror in school, but I always thought that you might be done after Voldemort. Though I understood why you weren't. But does it bring you a sense of satisfaction?"

He let out a long breath. "It's exciting right now. I feel like I'm doing good without also feeling like it's my destiny. It's just something I've chosen."

She let out a sigh of relief at this confirmation that he hadn't felt harangued into his current profession. "I get it."

"But I doubt I want to do it forever," he conceded. "I don't know what I want to do."

"Well, you have time to figure it out. You're really good at this auror thing, and that leaves you with a whole host of skills to move onto something else, whatever you choose." She smiled at him, although a big part of her wanted to scream at him to run far, far away from such a dangerous profession, it wasn't her place and it wasn't fair of her to ask it of him.

Not that he was in anyway incapable of doing his job. She just thought that he just deserved some peace, and selfishly, she wanted to feel that he was safe. "It's nice to see you with your colleagues," she said instead; her worries were not his burden to bear.

"Yeah?"

"I always knew you were talented Harry, but I was used to being in the midst of you and all your drama." She looked up and smirked, trying to make sure he knew that she was teasing. "It's different now though, I feel a kind of motherly pride it you."

"Motherly?" He looked absolutely incredulous.

Hermione felt her cheeks heat. "Not actually motherly, that would be weird, but you know what I mean, right? I was always kind of bossy at Hogwarts, like I thought I should be in charge. As in, I kind of mothered you."

Harry's face fell. "I should apologize for that, for leaving you to figure everything out."

"Right, because the only thing you had on your plate was defeating a dark lord." She rolled her eyes.

They just stared at each other and then began to laugh.

"Maybe we can agree that we were both in way over our heads and did the best that we could?" Hermione suggested.

"That sounds good, right." Harry leaned forward and she knew better than to so much as budge, and then with a heartbreaking reticiense that spoke of a childhood of neglect- something she'd surely reinforced by being so distant with him- he leaned in further and kissed her cheek.

After that they traveled to Ellis Island. Hermione had been there on a couple of occasions, and found the site where millions of immigrants had been processed and then entered the United States over the course of decades absolutely fascinating. But it seemed different this time, as if she had a point to prove, though she couldn't have said what it was.

"This might be insensitive to ask," he asked, hovering at her side as she scrutinized one of the the original immigrant log books in its glass case. "But this place seems particularly upsetting to you. Is there a reason for that?"

She turned to smile at him over her shoulder. "Not upsetting. Well, perhaps on some level," she conceded, then sighed. "But I just admire their bravery. Coming here, hoping for a better life, not knowing if they'd make it. How amazing is that? But also, so sad, for those who were turned away."

"Isn't that what you did?"

"What?" She asked, startled.

"Took a chance on a whole new life, a whole new way of life?" He gently cupped her shoulders, entreating her to look into his eyes which were as earnest as she'd ever seen them.

She chuckled, attempting to play it off. "I assure you, I had all my papers in order. I had money in the bank. I didn't have any doubt that they'd let me in the country. I even had a job all lined up."

"That's not what I was talking about," he said, carefully tightening his grip on her shoulders. "I meant when you went to Hogwarts."

She felt her eyes go wide. She'd never made that connection.

"It was easy for me, to throw myself into the magical world," he continued, "anything would have been better than there- than the Dursleys. But for you…"

She swallowed convulsively, resisted the urge to pull away from him physically. And that was on top of the battle within her heart where one part wanted to retreat from him emotionally, and the other refused. She wanted to run away, but she'd promised that she wouldn't do that, and she also felt a sudden need to confess her own insecurities which she'd always hidden from her magical friends.

She peered up at him. "You're giving me too much credit, Harry. It wasn't brave, it was desperation. The muggle world was no place for me either, no matter how much my parents loved me. I felt like a cuckoo in the nest."

"Oh Hermione," he breathed draping his arm across her shoulders and drawing her against his side. "It's terrible what they did to us. What was kept from us for so long."

"I agree."

"I'm not avoiding it," he said, clearly uncomfortable, "but I don't want to ruin this beautiful day with such a depressing topic. Could we save finishing this discussion for another time? I really would like to talk about this with you, as a member of the Wizengamot. I'd like to try and make things better for the muggleborn and muggle-raised."

She couldn't deny him such an obviously heartfelt request, and she longed for a nice day with him as well. She tried not to think about how much it warmed her heart that he wanted her opinion. "I'd like that Harry."

"Still," he grinned at her, "it's no wonder you were sorted into Gryffindor," he said, almost seamlessly slipping back into their prior conversation, absent the heaviest elements.

"I wanted Gryffindor," she smiled back at him. "It just sounded so glorious."

"I felt the same way," he muttered.

"And I wanted to seperate myself from just being the 'smart girl' you know?" She snorted. "I was almost a hatstall. It really wanted to put me into Ravenclaw."

His face relaxed and he chuckled, though it sounded a little forced. "Well thank the gods it didn't. I would definitely be dead if it had."

"And I'd have missed out on being your friend," she added, she meant it as a joke but the mere thought weighed heavily on her heart.

He just stood there blinking at her with those ridiculous green eyes. "You're right, that would have been a true tragedy. And I don't mean the me dying thing, that I'm totally used to, but not having you in my life? That I can't abide."

"Harry," she choked.

"Come on," he hugged her around the waist and then draped one arm across her shoulders again. "Lets go explore some more of this wonderful, terrible place."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

"You're ridiculously fit, you know that?" Harry admitted as he watched his best friend duck and dodge around the dueling arena. He should probably have been less surprised by Hermione's skill. They'd gone jogging together over the weekend and she'd kept up with him fairly easily. An impressive feat as he was in very good shape, and doubly so considering their height difference.

Then again, he had always foolishly underestimated her.

For instance, when she'd first suggested it, he had never really thought she had it in her to set up a defense group inside of Hogwarts, under Umbridge's- and all of their other professors'- noses. He had been dead wrong about that, and that fact had saved his life, an example of one of at least a dozen times she'd saved his life over the years. And just like on most of those occasions, he had humored her when he'd agreed to let her guide him on a run. He had reconciled himself to having to slow down to her pace and come back for a real workout afterwards. She'd spent a good portion of their jog glancing at him out of the corner of her eyes and smirking and he knew that she knew what he had been thinking.

And when Hermione had requested to get in some dueling practice with him he'd hesitated long enough that she had noticed. But this time she didn't keep quiet, in fact she'd gone full on 'Hermione in S.P.E.W. mode' on him. Strangely, watching her chew him out for being narrow minded and pigheaded and believing that she was less capable than his colleagues because she wasn't an auror, had been heartwarming. Nostalgic. But he didn't remember that part of her personality making him feel so happy in the past, in fact he recalled feeling distinctly annoyed by her not-so- rare lectures at Hogwarts.

Still, she made her point and it was obvious that she wasn't prepared to back down. So he had agreed to put in some time in the dueling arena with her. But he had secretly been not at all sure that he could fight her like he would a fellow auror. True, he'd dueled her many times when they were kids. But he'd become considerably more lethal since then. And while it was common for people to be injured even during friendly duels, and he knew she wouldn't take it personally, he wasn't sure he could handle hurting her, even a little bit.

Her skill ended up astounding him. He realized almost immediately that he wasn't the only one who had been training. But he should have known that she had been practicing. She had never been content to rest on her laurels, and it had always been obvious that her defensive skills were her weak spot, so it made sense that she would have been anxious to improve them.

"Well thank you." She gloated, Harry wondered if she knew how self-satisfied she looked.

Pride comes before the fall.

Harry hit her with a destabilization hex which was far more powerful than a 'petrificus totalus' and he would have felt utterly triumphant if the devastated look on her face hadn't momentarily caused his heart to fall into his stomach. He gathered his wits for a moment, breathing in and out, finding his center as he'd- finally- been taught as a proper occlumens; then he walked up to her and stood over her smirking, allowing himself to enjoy his victory for a moment.

She appeared to be attempting to eviscerate him with her eyes; he was happy to see the fire still in them. It made him happy, that look had been his saving grace more times than he could count. He released her and held out a hand for her. She just glared at it and scrambled to her feet on her own.

"This is what I do for a living Hermione, did you really expect to win?" She huffed and he chuckled, pulling her into a hug. "You're like a pouting little girl right now." He decided not to tell her that it was actually adorable. If he was brave enough, one day he might even ask her how she managed to keep her hair out of her face, because it appeared to be putting up a mighty fight to escape its prison, piled on top her her head. That day would probably never come.

He expected some form of retaliation for that comment, not for her to look up at him, an even more exaggerated pout on her face.

"That's not going to work on me," he insisted. "I know your competitive side wants to try and redeem yourself, but we need to get cleaned up, the match starts in just over an hour."

They were attending a charity quodpot match between a team of aurors and a team of healers from St. Elizabeth's which was meant to benefit the hospital in question. Harry had been hearing about this event almost non-stop since he'd arrived in America. The aurors were a little obsessed as they felt their pride was on the line; they couldn't even contemplate the possibility of being bested in a sport by a bunch of healers. And despite how much he feared the way his work environment would suffer if they did lose, Harry had very much been looking forward to it, never having had the opportunity to attend a quodpot match before.

"Fine, I'll get you back later," she stuck her tongue out at him.

He just rolled his eyes and slung an arm across her shoulders until they reached the locker rooms where they separated into the two gender-divided areas. He was showered and dressed before she was, but not by much. Hermione always had been efficient in everything that she did.

She emerged wearing a strapless red dress which showed off her sun kissed shoulders, the skirt dancing prettily around her knees. The wedge type sandals (he listened when the witches in his life spoke, he really did) she brought the top of her head even with his nose, when usually he could easily tuck her under his chin when they hugged.

"You look really nice," he said, looking down at his own jeans. "Am I under-dressed?"

"Not at all, most of the guys will be dressed similarly. This is a casual dress," she gestured to herself, "we girls just like to look a little special at these things, different than we do at work. And actually this is really comfortable," she swished her skirt and smiled at him, then offered him her arm. They had agreed that she would be apparating them to the pitch outside of the city as he'd never been there, he nodded and took the proffered arm.

When they arrived at their destination Harry reared back in impressed surprise at the sight before him. Unlike the pitch at Hogwarts, and most of the quidditch pitches he'd ever seen which were basically just the pitch itself surrounded by raised stands, this resembled a smallish muggle football stadium.

"Nice isn't it?" She asked him with a little smile.

"Yes," he agreed, as they made their way towards the entrance.

They handed their tickets in at the gate and then Hermione took his hand and easily led him to the private box they'd paid extra to share with a group of other aurors and their families.

"Been here a few times?" He chuckled as he trailed along behind her.

She shrugged. "They hold these things pretty regularly. Not just quodpot, but American muggle sports, and also our football. There's an entire inner-MACUSA league for Quodpot, sometimes they play for charity and sometimes just for fun. I come to support my friends, it's a nice way to socialize with coworkers outside of work."

He just nodded, smiling to himself. He liked witnessing and becoming immersed in the life his best friend had carved out for herself on this continent. And he also wished their Ministry had such a thing. Then again, MACUSA was larger than the British magical government by almost a factor of ten, so perhaps it was logistically impossible. He decided to ask Hermione her thoughts on the subject later, when they were alone. "You enjoy this better than quidditch?" He teased instead.

"I don't dislike quidditch," she frowned. He reached out and smoothed the crease between her brows with the pad of his thumb, she relaxed. "Sorry, I just don't understand why everybody thinks that. I'm simply not interested in sitting around discussing it, or any other sport, at least not for hours at a time. I've always enjoyed watching my friends play though, even when you do scare me to death," she shot him an unimpressed look.

"Okay, touche," he admitted. She hadn't missed a single one of his quidditch matches at Hogwarts.

At that point Astoria came practically dancing up to them. "Hello you two! How was your dueling practice?" She brushed her hand down Hermione's arm and then offered her cheek to him for a kiss. She was one of the only witches he'd ever met who could enact that maneuver without looking pretentious.

Hermione answered the question with an annoyed little sound at the back of her throat and Astoria laughed.

"He beat you then?"

"I don't want to talk about it." Hermione crossed her arms over her chest.

"He is a trained auror, and then all those other things of course," Astoria waved her hand about casually.

"Yes, I am aware," Hermione responded. "He's also possibly the most annoying wizard in creation," she griped.

"This is why I didn't want to duel you," he griped in return, half annoyed, half amused.

"Hermione," Astoria interrupted, "I've had a thought about our experiment from earlier. I think I know what went wrong and how to fix it."

"Oh?" Hermione's eyes lit up, immediately deterred from their argument.

And then they started discussing something that Harry couldn't have explained to anyone under pain of death. He was only reasonably certain they were still speaking English. He looked around but he didn't immediately see anybody with whom he wished to converse, so he just stuck to Hermione's side, his hand hovering at the small of her back.

They'd been standing there for about five minutes when an auror named Rick Andrews sidled up to them. Hermione and Astoria didn't even notice him, so involved were they in their conversation, until the other wizard stepped uncomfortably close to Hermione. Or, at least Harry thought it was too close, as he was standing right next to her and even he was uncomfortable by the wizard's proximity despite knowing for a fact that he could best the slightly older man in a fight.

Harry could admit that he already wasn't wild about the man, he had somewhat of a reputation as a womanizer which wasn't something Harry approved of, and to add to that, he had seemed to resent Harry's presence in America ever since his arrival, without bothering to get to know him. From what Harry could tell he was used to being the big man on campus- he actually reminded Harry of Malfoy in his younger years- and didn't appreciate not getting the attention he was used to due to Harry's mere presence.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, ladies," he said, not acknowledging Harry in any way, "but I wanted to let you know, a group of us are going out dancing after this and the two of you are welcome to join," he turned to look at Astoria, "your husband is, of course, welcome," he added in a tone of voice that suggested that Malfoy was anything but welcome.

Harry was irritated on Astoria's behalf but before he could say anything the other wizard turned back to Hermione and smiled at her hopefully.

Astoria caught his gaze and winked at him. Then her face lit up with what appeared to be genuine pleasure, but Harry knew her well enough to see the mischief in her eyes. "Oh that sounds like fun!" She turned and met his eyes again, "the two of you should definitely consider coming."

"That could be fun," he agreed automatically. He never had been and doubted he would ever be a talented dancer, but he'd learned that 'going dancing' had a lot more to do with melting into a crowd and moving your body in anyway that felt enjoyable and made you look confident in yourself than any technical skill; and he wanted to stick it to this arsehole.

Hermione turned, grinning at him. "You? Voluntarily dance?"

"You still have a lot to learn about me Granger," he huffed playfully, fully wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her into his side, all the while holding the gaze of the wizard standing in front of his best friend.

"Hey Potter!" He heard a familiar voice call. "We need to do these poor sods a public service and start a quidditch league, this sport is positively pedestrian." He saw Malfoy approaching from over Andrews' shoulder. When he reached them he practically shoved their fellow auror aside to greet Hermione with a kiss to her cheek. "Good evening, you look lovely. Please tell me Potter required medical attention after your duel."

"I wish," she huffed, "he's so annoyingly quick."

"Well," Andrews interrupted, "perhaps I'll see you all later." He didn't even try to hide the fact that he was annoyed when he turned around and stalked away.

"What a tosser," Malfoy snickered.

"You couldn't have even tried to be polite?" Asked Hermione. "Is it just not in your DNA or something?"

"First of all, nice try, trying to trip me up with a muggle reference, but I know what DNA is. I assure you, everybody in my family has perfect manners, when we choose to use them. Also, you're welcome for rescuing you from Andrews' disgusting attentions, and don't argue with me, I know he was making you uncomfortable. You're such a Gryffindor, your thoughts were written all over your face."

"I-" Hermione faltered, clearly torn between being grateful and admitting that he was correct.

There was a clapping of hands. "We should get some food!" Astoria said with false cheerfulness, though she did look genuinely amused.

"Of course, love. Ladies first," answered Malfoy, gesturing for the witches to precede them. They both narrowed their eyes at him but Hermione and Astoria linked arms and made their way over to the buffet. Harry watched them, hissing in surprise when the other man grabbed his arm. "You need to get yourself together Potter," Malfoy whispered harshly.

"Excuse me?" He turned to face the blond.

"The way you were just looking at Andrews? I know he's an arsehole, but let's just say that had you ever directed that look at the Dark Lord, he would have expired on the spot and saved us all a lot of trouble. That's and extreme reaction to somebody hitting on your friend. Lucky for you, Andrews is a conceited bastard and so he won't say anything, and Hermione is too blind to understand."

"Understand what?"

Malfoy sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You aren't this stupid. And I'm not going to be the one to explain your feelings to you. But like I said, get yourself together, this internal conflict is beginning to affect your work and it's going to make you at odds with half the Auror Corps, either because they're protective of Granger or they just want her. I'm the one who has to stand by your side and I have a wife to get back to every night."

Harry just stared at the other man, trying to make sense of his words. "Harry!" Hermione called from the buffet, startling him out of his reverie.

He immediately swiveled to face her. "Yes?"

"Can we share?"

"Share?"

"Like, I get a plate with a few things and then you get a few things?" She gestured to the variety of food laid out in front of her, eyes darting back and forth between the various dishes. "That way we can taste something of everything without having to get up to refill our plates once the match starts?"

He realized that, despite her tough facade, she was probably fairly magically depleted from their duel, and had also apparated them both here, and was therefore probably ravenous.

"That sounds great!" He made his way over to her and pretended he didn't hear Malfoy's quiet explicative. He would think about their conversation later, he intended to have an enjoyable evening.

It wasn't until they were in a club, Hermione positioned in front of him, her hips gyrating between his hands that his partner's words really wormed their way into his brain.

'Get yourself together.'

They weren't dancing any differently than any other couple; except for the fact that they weren't a couple, and that he wasn't available for a casual liaison. The very idea of engaging in such a thing with Hermione- even had he been single- was abhorrent to Harry.

So what was he doing?

Technically they weren't doing anything wrong. While Hermione had her shoulders firmly pressed against his chest, even in her intoxicated state she had been careful to keep their lower bodies from coming into contact.

And by dancing with her almost exclusively? At first he had told himself that he was simply keeping her safe from any other men who might have a predatory interest in her. That he wasn't loving every second of this. That he didn't want to pull her completely against him and grind himself against that delectable arse of hers which he'd been longing to touch ever since she'd transfigured that pretty red dress of hers into something shorter, tighter, and more appropriate for the club scene.

So he took the remarkably mature route of getting stupidly drunk to forget about the decision he knew he would have to make very soon. He could not continue to look at Hermione like this and stay with Ginny. But he did not stop dancing with Hermione in the meantime.

He escorted her home via cab as they'd both had too much to drink to apparate, especially with another person, and then she insisted that he stay over.

"I'm drunk, but you're drunker, Harry. I'll worry all night if you try and get home by yourself. You can sleep here." She pointed her wand at her sofa and it almost instantly turned into a comfy looking bed.

He just blinked. "That was damn impressive, Mione, especially given how much you've had to drink."

"I was determined," she kissed his cheek and turned to walk, more than a little unsteadily, back towards her bedroom.

He watched her until she was out of sight. He fell onto the transfigured sofa and was asleep before he could torture himself over the questions the night had brought.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

It took him a long time to break the surface of consciousness. Mostly because he didn't want to, his head was pounding and his mouth was dry. Sleep was much more pleasant.

But eventually the blinding light piercing through the skin of his eyelids made it impossible to resist any longer. He opened his eyes slowly, trying to figure out why his bed smelled so differently than it usually did, even as memories of the previous night began to pervade his brain.

Quodpot. Dancing. Drinking. Way too much drinking.

He chuckled very quietly to himself (his head really hurt) at those memories. Hermione was a cute drunk, and a surprisingly fun one too. As much as he loved her she was usually so regimented. He'd never seen her unfettered like that before, and he wished he remembered it better. However, even his vague memories told him that he'd been even worse off than she had been.

He turned his face into his pillow and breathed in her scent. She'd welcomed his intoxicated arse into her home and even arranged a comfortable bed for him. The least he could do in return was make them breakfast. Knowing Hermione, she didn't drink heavily often enough to keep hangover potions on hand, and he didn't know the location of the nearest apothecary, even if he had been confident of his ability to get himself there feeling the way that he did. He could, at least, make them a thoroughly unhealthy meal to mop up the leftover alcohol.

But he didn't want to get up quite yet. He listened for any sign of movement in the flat- Hermione had always been much more of a morning person that he was- but he heard nothing. So he closed his eyes, allowing himself a few more minutes to just relax and hopefully get rid of this blinding headache.

Harry tried to remember the last time he had as much fun as he'd had the night before. It had been carefree and natural, he hadn't been worried about maintaining his so-called image, or about the trustworthiness of the people around him. It had just been enjoyable, and he wanted to do it again.

He considered that further; it was definitely possible, in fact he could arrange it. Labor Day was coming up in a few weeks. MACUSA would be running on a skeleton crew, and given his visiting position he was guaranteed holidays off. Hermione was senior enough that he knew she wouldn't be required to be put on call in case of emergency either.

Maybe they could go away somewhere for the weekend. Hermione had done a lot of traveling since she'd arrived in America and knowing her, she had at least a dozen places she was itching to show him. That could be fun, to allow her to lead him around for a weekend; most women might consider that an imposition, but he knew she would relish the opportunity.

Then again, perhaps he could convince her to do something relaxing, like go lay on a beach somewhere. Or maybe they could get a group together, share a house. He'd heard good things about the Hamptons. On second thought, Hermione on a beach sounded like something he'd like to enjoy on his own.

And as that thought punctuated his consciousness he sat up so fast he actually groaned aloud at the pounding it caused in his head.

Had he just been considering taking Hermione away for the weekend? Just the two of them? Like some kind of romantic holiday?

Yes.

And more than that, he wanted it badly.

Freefall, that's what it felt like, not on a broomstick, but on a roller coaster: elation with a matching dose of terror. Because unlike when he was setting his own pace on a broom, he had no control over the roller coaster. And he had no control over whatever was happening to him now.

Did he have feelings for Hermione? Well of course he did. But of the romantic sort?

He got a little thrill even consciously thinking it. And he suspected this was not a new development.

But Ginny. He felt nothing but guilt when he thought of her. Guilt that he hadn't thought of her before, and maybe a little bit of longing over what he'd believed their relationship to be, which now just felt like a dream he'd awoken from, only to realize it wasn't real.

He took his phone out of his pocket and examined the call log. He hadn't spoken to his fiancée in two days. But it wasn't as if either of them were making much of an effort. Which was actually a terrible commentary on their relationship now that he was thinking about it.

He knew he should quit this assignment, go home, and make things work with the woman he'd been in relationship with for half a decade, the one he'd made promises to, and asked to spend the rest of her life with him. It was the right thing to do.

But his heart twisted in his chest at the very idea. Because it meant that he would have to leave Hermione, probably permanently, and he would definitely have to distance himself from her emotionally. Anything less would be unfair to Ginny.

And he knew immediately that he couldn't do it. He couldn't commit himself to Ginny. Because in the end it didn't matter if he was actually in love with Hermione, he could figure that out later. But he couldn't marry a woman when he felt this strongly for another. Ginny- any woman he chose to marry- should be the most important thing in his life, and he'd demonstrated over and over that Ginny wasn't. He'd come to America against her express wishes, and he'd done so in large part because he missed Hermione.

There wasn't anything he wouldn't do for Hermione.

_Fuck._

And the real irony was that the one thing he wanted in the world more than anything else right now was to go wake Hermione and pick her beautiful brain about this. In fact, he'd like to crawl in bed with her, pull her into his arms all warm and bleary eyed-

_Oh fucking hell._

He had to leave right now, he couldn't see her, he was in danger of doing something very stupid if he did. These burgeoning- or perhaps just newly realized feelings- were threatening to overwhelm him. And she deserved better than that. Ginny deserved better than that. Hell, he deserved better than that.

He rose as quietly as possible in his hungover state. He considered setting Hermione's sofa to rights, but then decided she might not thank him for it later. He couldn't quite remember what it had looked like originally, and as he wasn't the one to have transfigured it in the first place a simple 'finite' wouldn't suffice. Then he searched for pen and paper to leave a note, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible as he went through her desk, he didn't want to inadvertently invade her privacy.

What he left Hermione by way of explanation felt utterly inadequate. He said simply that he had to return home for a few days to complete some business. However, he also didn't think that it would have been right to say more. The least he owed Ginny was to let her know his intentions first. That he was- all the gods help him- breaking off not just their engagement, but their entire relationship.

And Hermione would give him the benefit of the doubt that whatever he was doing was important, she had always thought the best of him, even when she'd been infuriated with him. It was something he'd spent his life trying to live up to- which was extremely telling, now that he thought about it.

He left the note on his pillow and slipped quietly out the door. Only when he was safely ensconced in a cab did he breathe a sigh of relief. No, not relief, his heart ached; both at the idea of leaving Hermione behind and of what he had to tell Ginny once he arrived back home, but of acceptance that he was doing what was right.

When he reached his hotel he bypassed his floor and went straight up to Malfoy's penthouse. He would have to let his partner know he was leaving the country, he might as well get it over with.

He was unsurprised when it was Draco and not Astoria who answered the door. They had been well trained to be suspicious, and he doubted Malfoy had been expecting visitors. And for all his faults the man was incredibly protective of his wife.

"Potter," he greeted and then he visibly hesitated and looked him up and down. "Fuck," he murmured under his breath.

"What?" Harry asked. He didn't think he looked that bad.

"Fuck" he repeated, "Just, seriously, Granger? What were you thinking?"

Harry felt his entire body go rigid and rage flooded his system. He pushed the other man into his own suite and got right in his face. "Don't you ever speak about her like that again!"

Malfoy's eyes went wide and he held up his hands. "Okay, I know Granger is a...touchy subject with you, so I'm going to let this go and keep my wand holstered, but what the hell do you think you're doing?"

"You just implied that she's not worthy of me because she's a muggleborn! I thought you were past that!"

"What? That's not what I meant at all," he spat. "And, actually, fuck you Potter, when was the last time you heard me say anything even remotely anti-muggleborn? And you can't tell me I've been anything other than totally respectful to Hermione, hell I like her, and Tori thinks she practically the second coming of Merlin."

"Then why did you look so disgusted by the idea of us together?"

"Because you're engaged, Potter, to the daughter of a prominent family. And even if you weren't, I know enough about Granger to know that she's not the kind of witch who will accept being used as some one night thing and it was wrong of you to take advantage of the fact that she's clearly crazy about you."

"Take advantage of her, what are you talking about?" He squinted at the man he often trusted with his life, but was making no sense to him at the moment. "And you think she's crazy about me?"

"You slept with her when she was drunk and vulnerable. Hell, I almost feel like I need to duel you for her honor or something. Seriously, what were you thinking!"

"What, we didn't sleep together! I would never treat Hermione so callously, why would you think that?"

"You went home with her, and you show up here wearing the same clothes you had on last night. What do you expect me to think happened?"

"I slept on her couch- her transfigured couch, but the point stands! I would never treat Hermione like that! If we ever make love it will me exactly that-" he cut himself off and took a deep breath.

"Oh, so you've figured it out," Malfoy murmured, almost to himself.

Harry pretended he hadn't heard him. "I came here to tell you that I need to go home for a few days and so, I'm sorry, but I need for you to cover for me at work."

"Okay," Malfoy nodded, "I hope you're doing what I think you're doing, but I'm not asking, and I don't want you to tell me."

Despite his own grim mood Harry almost laughed. Of course Malfoy would want plausible deniability about what Harry was up to, that was exactly like him. "I just wanted you to know I'd be gone for a few days," Harry explained.

"Okay Potter, but it better only be a few days, I can't be left here, holding the bag."

Harry paused and looked the other man in the eyes, a man who'd worked hard to carve out a career for himself despite the doubts of so many back home, as well the derision of nearly the entire British auror department. "Just a few days, I swear." He turned and started to stride away before calling over his shoulder: "Give my best to your wife, tell her I fully intend to keep our lunch date, but I may need to postpone it."

"Damn straight, Potter!" Malfoy called after him, "disappointing Astoria is where I draw the bloody line!"


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Hermione woke with a smile on her face. But then the blinding headache and disorientation overcame her. It was only when she blinked her eyes open- slowly- that she remembered.

The drinking and the dancing. The way Harry had held her like she was precious, but also...desirable. And then how he'd insisted on escorting her home. After that: Harry asleep in her living room.

She wished she had some hangover potions on hand to offer him, but maybe they could make their way to the apothecary together, or even just go to breakfast. She climbed out of bed careful to keep from jostling her aching head and padded her way to her living room as quietly as possible, not wanting to wake him abruptly. But the transfigured sofa was empty and her heart crashed in her chest at the sight.

Not that she should have expected him to stick around. He had been doing her a favor, escorting her home and making sure she was safe, nothing more. That was Harry through and through.

She noticed a piece of paper on his pillow and snatched it up, reading it quickly.

He'd gone home. He was going to go all the way across the ocean back to England. On business, he said. But what kind of business popped up unexpectedly on a Saturday morning that would require him to travel all that way? Was somebody sick? Surely he would have told her that. Or maybe not, perhaps she'd forfeited the right to be informed of these things.

She wished he'd woken her up, given her more of an explanation. She wished she could have talked to him before he left, given him a proper good-bye.

She was a hypocrite.

She read the note again, desperate for any crumb of information. It wasn't simply that he was vague about his plans, it was almost...terse. Perhaps he was just stressed by whatever had called him home.

But then panic seized her. What if it was something else entirely? What if she'd done something stupid?

She didn't remember the details of last night. She'd never before allowed herself to lose control around Harry, for this very reason. She ran for her phone and hit Leah's contact. After several rings her friend answered and Hermione could tell immediately that she'd been awoken by the call.

"I think I may have done something stupid," Hermione blurted in greeting.

"Huh, what? Are you okay? What happened?"

Hermione blew out a long breath. "I'm safe, if that's what you are asking, but no I'm not okay," she answered before launching into an explanation of what she remembered of the night before: the charity match, the club, the dancing, some of the cab ride home, and then ordering Harry to stay on her sofa.

"It sounds like you had fun," Leah responded when she was through, "why are you freaking out?"

"Because when I woke up this morning Harry was gone, with just a note on his pillow."

"I'm still not understanding the problem. He probably just didn't want to wake you."

"He didn't just go back to his hotel, he's going back to England!"

"What?! I l thought he was here for six months?"

"No, not permanently, he said he had some business too complete."

"Well that is a little...odd. But it's not completely out of the realm of understanding. From what you say he's a pretty big deal in Britain, isn't it possible he was needed at the last minute?"

"Yes," Hermione breathed, trying to calm down. "Yes it's possible. But what if it's not that, what if I said or did something to drive him away!"

"Like what?"

"I don't know, tried to kiss him, told him I loved him?"

Leah sighed. "Hermione, you're not that blinkered from last night, it's just little things you can't seem to remember. I'm pretty sure you would know if you'd done something like that. And I don't think he would have stuck around even just to sleep on your couch if you'd made a move and he rejected you. Something probably really did just come up, he's as hungover as you are so rather than wake you, he left a note."

That made a remarkable amount of sense, but didn't make Hermione feel better at all. "What if it was just so traumatic that I blocked it out?!

"What?" Leah barked.

"And it would be just like Harry to stay and make sure I'm okay but then slip out to avoid embarrassing us both," Hermione said as she continued to unravel.

"Hermione, I think you're being a little hysterical."

"Maybe. Or maybe I'm being totally logical," she countered.

"Okay, take some deep breaths." Hermione could hear her friend shifting around, probably sitting up in bed and she felt a momentary pang of regret for waking her. "I'm awake now, how do you feel about breakfast?"

Hermione considered that, her pounding head and cottonmouth hitting her all over again. "Ugh," she groaned, "I can't go anywhere, I feel disgusting."

Leah chuckled on the other end of the line. "Poor baby," she cooed tauntingly, "you only have yourself to blame."

"Shut up, you're always telling me I should have more fun."

"That doesn't mean I've forfeited the right to make fun of you when you overindulge."

"I know, I know. From what I remember it was worth it though."

Leah continued to chuckle. "Okay, okay, there's no reason for us to go to brunch. I don't particularly feel like getting dressed either. How about I go get us some pastries and bring them over instead?"

"Oh," Hermione groaned, "I'd give my wand arm for a croissant right now," she said, thinking of the buttery, flakey treat which sounded like heaven at the moment.

"I can make that happen, stay in your PJs, I'll be twenty minutes at most."

"Thanks Lee."

"That's what I'm here for, hon."

She hung up, but before she could put her phone down, something occurred to her. Harry was a responsible wizard, especially when it came to his job. If he was leaving the country, he definitely would have at least informed his partner that he was doing so. Which meant that it was possible Malfoy had more information about what Harry was doing.

She rushed over to her day bag and ruffled through it, finally locating the scrap of paper where she'd scribbled the phone number for the Malfoys' hotel suite. Before she could overthink it, she dialed the number and let out a relieved sigh when it was Astoria who answered. Hermione didn't think she could tolerate Draco's particular brand of snark this morning, and for some reason she just knew that her calling to ask after Harry would absolutely bring it out of him.

"Hello," Astoria repeated her greeting while Hermione was lost in thought.

"Oh, hi, I'm sorry. Astoria, it's Hermione."

"Oh, hi! How are you feeling this morning?"

"Not great," Hermione admitted. "That's not why I'm calling, even though I do sort of blame you because we went out at your urging."

She laughed. "I'd apologize, but I'm not even a little bit sorry, I had far too much fun, and I think you did too," she trailed off, a teasing lilt to her voice. "What can I do for you though?"

"Actually, I was just wondering if you knew if your husband had heard from Harry this morning?"

"Oh, yes. He came by about an hour ago? I didn't see him, but according to Draco he's headed back home for a few days on some kind of business," Astoria explained.

"That's all he said?"

"I think so," the other woman laughed and Hermione could practically see her rolling her eyes, "you know how men are," she added.

"Right," Hermione snorted, she knew exactly what her friend meant.

There was a long pause.

"Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"What's going on? You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but if there's something I can do to help then I'd like to..."

Hermione laughed, and even to herself it sounded bitter. "I don't know," she responded, "is there a potion or a spell, or something to rid yourself of unrequited love that you purebloods have been hoarding for yourselves and that you'd be willing to share with me?" Hermione clapped her hand over her mouth and closed her eyes in mortification as soon as the words escaped her mouth; she couldn't believe she'd just said that, perhaps she really was losing her mind. "There's no chance you could just forget I said that, is there?" She squeaked.

She heard the other witch let out a long breath. "I don't think I can forget, but we can pretend like you never did, if you'd like, I swear I won't breathe a word. Or," Astoria continued on before Hermione could say anything, "we could talk about it, and the same deal applies; I won't breathe a word."

"Are you busy today?" Hermione asked, without really considering it.

"Free as a bird."

"Leah's coming over with breakfast in a few minutes. Would you like to join us?"

"Oh, that sounds lovely."

"It's nothing fancy. Actually, Leah ordered me to stay in my pajamas."

"I think that sounds like fun," Astoria contradicted.

"You have my address?"

"I do, though I'll need to take a car since I've never been there before."

"No hurry," Hermione reassured her, "seriously Astoria, this is totally casual. You're welcome whenever you can manage to get here."

"I understand, message received, I'll pretend I'm not a Malfoy." That made Hermione laugh out loud. "I'll see you soon then."

"See you soon," Hermione agreed, still chuckling.

And, once again, before she could set her phone down, she reconsidered. Astoria had said that Harry had been by just an hour before they had spoken. Which meant that no matter how he'd chosen to travel- muggle or magical- he wouldn't have had time to arrange for transportation and leave the U.S. just yet. But should she take his note as a sign that he didn't want to speak to her, or should she try to check on him?

She remembered the months- the years- when she'd practically ignored him. She had just got him back, just begun rebuilding the trust between them. It quickly became clear to her that she couldn't stand to leave him in any doubt that she cared. If he didn't want to talk to her, he was free to ignore her call, but that didn't mean that she shouldn't make it. At least he would know that she was thinking of him, that she wanted to check on him.

She immediately scrolled for his contact information, which she made him program into her phone the minute she had learned he had a mobile.

It rang once, twice, three times.

"Hey Mione," he answered, sounding rather breathless.

"Hey," she breathed a sigh of relief just to hear his voice. "Are you okay?"

"What? Oh no, of course I am. I've just arrived at LaGuardia. I'm sorry I left in such a hurry, but something suddenly came up."

"Okay," she answered. "I just wanted to make sure, your note wasn't very specific and I didn't know if I should be worried."

"No need to worry," he responded, but his tone sounded forced and his words stilted. "Really, just some things I need to take care of, I'll be back in just a few days. Really, you don't need to worry," he repeated.

"I get it." She didn't, but she was trying to respect his privacy and to understand that he had his reasons. "Be safe Harry." She contemplated asking him to give the Weasleys and their mutual friends her love, if he saw them, but stopped herself. It wasn't fair to put that on him. She would have to do her own work if she was going to repair the bridges she'd burned. "I'll miss you," she said instead, trying to be as honest with him as she could. "Please let me know when you get back."

"I will," he assured her, and she went to hit the button to end the call but then she heard him say, very quietly. "I'll miss you too."

She raised her phone back up to her ear. "Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"Ring me if you need anything, okay? Anything at all, I don't care what time it is," she just couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

"Hermione-"

"I mean it," she insisted. "I'm here for you, and I always will be. Just, don't hesitate if you need me, okay?"

There was a long pause.

"Thank you," the words came out on a long exhale, like they were a great relief. "I can't tell you how much that means to me. I'll see you soon." And then the line went dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank Weestarmeggie for beta reading this, but of course as soon as I got it back I went and changed a bunch of things and probably messed up all her work, so mistakes are mine ;) Next chapter I promise we'll see what's going on at Harry's end. Thanks for reading!


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Astoria arrived about half an hour after Leah did. She strode in wearing a pair of linen trousers and a multi-colored silk blouse that reminded Hermione of an Expressionist painting. She looked impeccable and she could have walked into most of the finest eateries in the city without anybody blinking an eye. And yet she seemed completely at ease.

Hermione chuckled to herself that this was Astoria’s concept of, in her own words, ‘forgetting she was a Malfoy.’

The moment Astoria was seated in the living room she began to unload her tote bag which contained two bottles of Champagne and a jug of orange juice.

Hermione felt her eyes go wide in surprise at the sight. “Haven’t we done enough drinking in the past twenty-four hours?”

“What’s that they say about the hair of the dog that bit you?” Astoria laughed. “I had this drink at brunch last weekend and it was delightful. I couldn’t resist sharing. It’s called a mimosa which just sounds lovely without even knowing how it tastes, don’t you think? Have you ever had one?”

Hermione nodded but Leah was too busy examining the Champagne to respond. “This is really fancy stuff,” she noted

Astoria shrugged. “No use in being as rich as we are unless you’re going to enjoy it.”

Hermione laughed and went to retrieve some glasses. They poured themselves cocktails and then started eating, not bothering to move to Hermione’s small dining table. Hermione tore through two croissants and then plucked a pain au chocolat out of the pastry box. Leah snorted and Hermione’s head snapped up.

“What?” She asked.

Leah shook her head, “nothing it’s just I’ve never seen you quite so unglued, even after he first arrived. You’re actually eating your feelings.”

Hermione glanced at the buttery, chocolatey piece of heaven in her hands, shrugged, looked back up at Leah and maintained eye contact as she started eating it, daring her to say anything else about it. The two other women burst out laughing.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Leah prompted, once they’d finally finished eating (Hemione forwent yet another pastry in favor of a cup of yogurt.)

Hermione fiddled with the stem of her wine glass- because she most certainly wasn’t a Malfoy and she didn’t have any Champagne flutes in her small kitchen. “Yes,” she admitted, “but I don’t know where to start.”

“How long?” Asked Astoria quietly.

Hermione’s eyes flew to hers. “I’m sorry?”

“How long have you loved him?” She clarified.

“I don’t know, maybe always? But at least since fourth or fifth year.”

Astoria’s eyes softened in sympathy. “Really? I thought perhaps it was a new thing, at least the being ‘in’ love part.”

Hermione shook her head. “He’s pretty much always been it for me.”

“That’s like more than half your life. Why didn’t you ever tell him?”

“A witch after my own heart,” Leah crowed, holding out her glass for Astoria to tap. “I cannot tell you how many times I’ve asked her that same question.”

Hermione brought her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. “There was just so much going on when we were kids.” She looked at Astoria apologetically. “Are you sure you’re okay to talk about this? It’s a lot to do with the war.”

“I’m fine. I’d already considered that, actually. It’s a sensitive subject for Draco, obviously, but I was mostly kept away from it, so don’t worry about me.”

Hermione took a deep breath. “How do you add to the burden of somebody you love who already has the weight of the world on his shoulders?”

“How would loving him be a burden?”

“Because-” she swallowed thickly. “I don’t mean to be insensitive or sanctimonious, but neither of you can understand what it was like to be in the middle of a war like Harry and I were. There were times- sometimes months at a time, where the only thing between us and death was that I’d happened to come upon an important bit of information in my research, or he’d had a brilliant spark of insight which protected us. And that was true even before the war was active, since we were quite young, really. We didn’t always get along, or understand each other, but we trusted each other completely, we had to. And he never looked at me… like that. I couldn’t ruin our dynamic by telling him how I felt, there was too much on the line.”

There was a long beat of silence.

“And after the war was over?” Astoria asked.

“He was with Ginny. He had been with Ginny, even if it wasn’t official, since our sixth year. She’s my friend, I couldn’t interfere with their relationship like that. And like I said, he’s never looked at me like he was interested. And they’re really happy together, what right do I have to get in the middle of that?”

Astoria just stared at her and then glanced at Leah and Hermione saw some sort of unspoken communication passing between them.

“You should tell her, you know him better than I do,” Leah prompted Astoria.

“Have you guys talked about this?” Hermione asked, “about me and Harry?” She clarified.

“No, not exactly,” Astoria switched her gaze back to Hermione. “I think we probably just see the same things.”

“What’s that?”

“First of all, I have a question. Why is it that you think that Harry and Ginny are so happy together?”

Hermione shrugged. “Well they’re getting married, and they’ve been together all this time, they must be.”

“She’s- they’re- I’m not saying they don’t love each other, but… well, lets just say that he doesn’t look at her like the sun rises and sets in her eyes. Which is exactly how he looks at you.”

Hermione scoffed.

“She’s not wrong,” Leah countered.

Hermione blinked, looking back and forth between her two friends. She had no reason to believe they would tease her about such a thing, but it was equally difficult to believe that they were serious. “The sun rises and sets in my eyes?”

Leah gave her a small smile. “He’s even more obvious than you are about how he feels.”

“Wait.” Hermione gripped the sofa cushions, panicked, as she felt blood rush to her face. “I’ve been obvious? Do you think he knows?”

“I think he’s the only one who doesn’t know,” Leah said.

“Astoria?” Hermione called.

“If there was any doubt, last night erased it,” her younger friend answered.

“Oh gods!” Hermione buried her face in her hands. “How pathetic am I?”

“Hermione,” Astoria called, and then there was a hand on her back, tentatively soothing her. “Nobody thinks you’re pathetic. The pair of you are completely lovely, that’s why I asked why you had never told him, it just seems so natural that you would be together.”

“I’d almost be jealous that nobody has ever looked at me like that,” said Leah, “if I wasn’t so worried that you’re going to get your heart broken.”

“He wouldn’t do that,” Astoria argued.

“Maybe not intentionally, but he seems like the kind of wizard to stick by his witch no matter how he feels about another. Am I wrong?”

Hermione gasped and felt her heart constrict, because she knew Leah was correct. What she was describing was Harry all over.

“Draco thinks Harry’s gone to break things off with her!” Astoria blurted.

“What?!” Hermione and Leah exclaimed in unison.

“Yeah, I mean he didn’t ask him specifically if that’s what he was up to, because they don’t do things like that. But they also know each other pretty well so if that’s what Draco thinks, then I think he’s probably onto something.”

“If he does, you have to tell him how you feel when he gets back,” Leah interjected. “You’ll never forgive yourself if you don’t at least try. And then you’ll know either way.”

Hermione looked down at her now-empty glass, heart racing at the prospect of a single Harry.

“You’re right,” she eventually admitted, voice trembling with both hope and terror.

Astoria poured her another glass of Champagne. She didn’t add any orange juice.

 

Ginny answered the door to her flat looking neither surprised nor happy to see Harry. She looked resigned; his heart sank.

“I was wondering when you’d come,” she said. He just stared at her and she sighed. “I guess you’d better come in,” she stepped aside to let him through the doorway.

She made no attempt to touch him, in fact she seemed to be attempting to stay out of arm’s reach which was something of a relief for Harry- as he was uncertain about embracing her in his current state of mind, and kissing her would be downright wrong- but also felt bizarre.

“How are you?” He asked as they seated themselves in her living room.

Ginny scowled and shook her head. “Don’t do that Harry.”

“Do what?”

“Try and stall or make small talk. Just say what you came here to say.”

“Okay, well,” he let out a long breath. He thought he knew what he wanted to say but it seemed impossible to start. “Did you notice we haven’t spoken in three days?” He finally asked her.

She shrugged, face impassive and he realised she wasn’t going to make this easy for him. Not that he had expected her to, but he had been prepared for an explosion of Weasley temper, not this eerie calm.

“And that’s not even all that uncommon since I left,” he continued. “And when we do talk we hardly say anything.”

“Yes, well you’re the one who left.”

“I did,” he conceded. “I left even though you didn’t want me to, you’ve never approved of my career and yet it was something I pursued anyway. That’s never sat well between us.”

She just shrugged again and Harry was suddenly reminded of the petulant teenager she’d once been and felt a flare of annoyance he tamped out with another deep breath.

“But there’s more going on here than that and I think you know it,” he added.

“Like what?” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“Neither one of us has made an effort to keep up with the other. Not just on this assignment but in the past, and when you’ve been away in the past too.”

Ginny just sniffed.

“Beyond that, Malfoy pointed out to me that we’ve been engaged longer than he and Astoria have even been in a relationship. We keep pushing back the wedding, why do we keep doing that? Don’t you think that means something?”

“Yes, well if Malfoy pointed it out it must be important,” she snapped sarcastically.

He sighed. He was trying to be gentle with her, but he was beginning to see that that might not be possible. There was a lot more resentment between them than he’d realised, even though he’d done nothing since he boarded the plane to London than go over and over their relationship in his head trying to decide what had happened between them, and what he wanted to say to her.

“That attitude is just one of our problems. Can’t you understand? Malfoy is my colleague. An important colleague at that, as he works as my partner far more often than anybody else. And Astoria is a friend, but you’ve hardly made any kind of effort to get to know either of them.”

“You could just stay home and be partners with Ron and then we wouldn’t have to associate with that family,” she sneered.

Harry jumped up. “And I would be miserable!” He exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. “Ron’s good at his job, and somebody has to do it, but it’s not for me. I’d be bored out of my mind. And another thing: the way you just said ‘that family.’ I get that you have plenty of reasons to dislike the Malfoys in general, but nobody is asking you to have tea with Lucius, and Astoria has never done anything to you except for marry into a family you don’t approve of!”

“Yeah and that’s plenty,” she shot back.

He just stared at her, it felt like the walls he’d built in his mind to hide the things he didn’t like about her were crumbling around him. Had he ever seen her clearly? “That kind of prejudice is just as ugly as any other and I don’t like the way it looks on you. Seriously, how is that any different than judging a person for having muggle parents?”

She sat back in her chair, arms still crossed across her chest defensively but said nothing.

“And you know, Hermione has just as much reason to dislike and distrust Draco as you do, probably more so. But she’s been nothing but polite and even friendly to him. When I asked her about it, she said that she trusted my judgment and that if I thought he was okay now, then he must be. She trusted me when my own fiancée won’t.” As soon as the statement left his mouth he knew it was the worst thing he could have said, on top of being unfair to Ginny- she had the right to choose to forgive a person or not on her own terms and for her own reasons.

Ginny’s face clouded over as she stood and marched right over to him, pointing an accusing finger in his face. “Yes, well I never could live up to perfect Princess Hermione, could I?” She spat. “Not at Hogwarts, not during the war, not even when she just up and left; you’ve been pining for her for years, it’s pathetic.”

“This isn’t about Hermione,” he answered automatically but his heart stuttered as he wondered at the truth of her words.

“Isn’t it?”

He took a deliberate step back. “No,” he forced himself to stand firm and meet her eyes. “We disagree about major life issues and the longer we’re together, the more it all seems to get worse rather than better. And the thing is we’re not even working on it. We’ve just become two ships passing in the night, and rarely even that because we’ve never even lived together!”

“So you’re telling me if there was no Hermione you would still be here breaking up with me?”

Harry paused a beat too long.

“That’s what I thought. What happened, did she finally open her eyes and see that you’re not ‘just Harry’ and make a move?”

If Harry had any doubts before that his relationship was over, that erased them. Perhaps he didn’t understand her, but she obviously didn’t know him at all. “One of the things I love most about Hermione is that she always has and always will see me as ‘just Harry.’ I’ve never had to be anything more for her. And she hasn’t done anything even remotely inappropriate, I have no idea if she’s even interested.”

Okay, so that was a small lie, given Malfoy’s observations he at least hoped that she might be. But in the end it was irrelevant. This really wasn’t about Hermione, as much as she might have been a catalyst for him coming to terms with the fact that he and Ginny needed to break up. If nothing ever happened between him and his best friend, he was still convinced that he was doing the right thing now.

“But you admit that you love her,” Ginny insisted.

“Of course I love her! She’s my best friend. But my feelings for her are irrelevant. You and I are not good for each other Ginny. Neither of us puts the other or our relationship first, and we never really have for the entire time we’ve been together when you think about it. I do love you, and we’ve had some good times together which I’ve treasured, but it’s not enough to spend my whole life with you.”

Silence reigned between them, both of their chests heaved as they struggled to overcome their emotions and breathe, but then Ginny’s face fell and she burst into tears. She covered her face with her hands and sobbed into them. For long minutes Harry just stared at her, uncertain of the course of action he should take. It seemed wrong to just stand here, to not even attempt to comfort her, but he’d just ended their relationship, he might be the last person in the world she wanted that from at the moment.

Finally, she stumbled forward and he automatically caught her in his arms. He felt her tears begin to soak through his shirt and he felt like the worst sort of man. However, he still thought he’d done the right thing.

He led them over to the sofa and let her cry herself out. She finally pulled away from him and wiped her cheeks with her hands. “Give me a few minutes,” she requested, her voice thick and shaky, before standing up and heading in the direction of her bathroom.

He watched her go and only then did he fully recognize that he had been crying as well. Not as hysterically as Ginny, but definitely crying. And now that he wasn’t concerned about having a sobbing woman in his arms, he realised that he too was sad, this entire situation was sad. Their relationship hadn’t worked out in the end, but they had been committed to each other for a long time, it was only right that he should mourn.

Ginny returned about ten minutes later, her hair pulled back, face fresh. She sat next to him again, but this time she kept a couple of feet between them. He wrung his hands and she, once again, crossed her arms over her chest.

“I’m not sure what to say,” he admitted, glancing at her out of the corner of his eyes.

She huffed. “I’m not sure we should say anything else to each other today. Just go- go back to Hermione.”

Harry squeezed his eyes shut. “Please don’t be like that. This isn’t Hermione’s fault.”

“Are you honestly telling me that you don’t have feelings for her? And don’t try and pawn me off again with any of this ‘she’s my best friend’ nonsense. You know what I’m asking you.”

“No, I won’t lie to you. I do have feelings for her. But I only now just realised it.”

“But don’t you see!” She jumped up but then let herself crash back down to the cushions, pointing an accusing finger in his direction. “She’s always been there! I never had a chance. If she didn’t exist…”

Harry’s entire being recoiled at the very suggestion and he suddenly felt a lot less sympathy for the witch beside him. “If she didn’t exist I would be dead and Britain would probably be ruled by Lord Voldemort, so that’s kind of a moot point,” he said coldly. “Maybe I should go before one of us says something we can’t take back. Would you like me to go see your parents and tell them the wedding’s off?” It was the very last thing he wanted to do, but it also felt like the least he owed her, even if he kind of wanted to strangle her at the moment.

“No, I’ll tell them,” she sniffed, pointedly looking away from him. “I appreciate you coming and telling me this in person, but maybe you should just stay away for awhile.”

“Yeah,” agreed Harry, swallowing thickly and standing up. He glanced down at the woman he once- until just days ago, actually- thought he was going to spend his life with. He felt like he should be able to offer her more but he didn’t know what that was. “Bye Gin.”

He walked to the door only to hear her running after him. He stopped but didn’t turn around until he felt her hand on his shoulder, she had her arms held out for him. He took her into his and they just held each other for several long minutes.

“Bye Harry,” she eventually released him. “I’d like to say that I was very gracious in this moment, and was able to tell you that I hope you can be happy.” She took a deep breath. “But truthfully, the most I can offer is just to say: stay safe and I hope we can be friends one day, because I’ll miss you.”

“Me too.” He kissed her forehead and walked out the door without another word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Weestarmeggie for the beta read. But truthfully I probably went and messed up all her work by changing a bunch of things after I got it back, as per usual. So, I hope this is satisfactory, thank you guys for reading!


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Harry wasn't sure that he was of steady enough mind to apparate. If he wasn't on the brink of attempting something truly life-changing, he would have felt pathetic. Because apparating was something he'd been able to manage many times in the middle of a war, in the midst of many harrowing auror missions, and even sometimes while on the brink of death. But he wasn't certain he could accomplish it safely at the prospect of facing his very best friend. Not given what he was set to tell her.

His best friend- the woman he now suspected was the love of his life.

That idea was the source of his nerves, as that was a phrase he'd never even thought in the past. Despite the fact that he'd been engaged to somebody else and probably should have at least considered it in regards to her. But looking back on it, he never had. Because there had always been somebody else that he loved more. Hermione had firmly entrenched herself in his heart before he'd ever even really met Ginny.

Which was probably why he'd never allowed himself to entertain the idea of Hermione in a romantic light. She was too important, he couldn't have afforded to risk their relationship in the past. At which thought he second guessed- for at least the thousandth time- if he could risk what he was planning to do now.

Once again he arrived at the same conclusion. Which was that he didn't have much of a choice. Because while he'd spent the entire flight to London thinking of one woman, he'd spent the entire flight back thinking of another. That was when he'd decided that he couldn't not risk it.

At first he'd wondered if he should hold off acting on his feelings and let his relationship with Ginny fade into the past. But, perhaps selfishly, he just didn't want to. Now that he was aware of his feelings for Hermione he was also coming to understand how very long he'd felt that way, and he didn't want to waste any more time.

Also, his relationship with Ginny had died a slow and natural death, as hard as that was to admit. However, he was very certain it was over. He was not longing for her, and there would be an ocean between them, he would not be rubbing anything that might happen between himself and Hermione in her face.

Not to mention that his time was limited. He was only in America for six months, more than a month of which had already passed. He couldn't afford to dither around allowing whatever people would deem to be the 'appropriate amount' of time to pass between his breakup and starting a new relationship. He knew how he felt, but loving somebody and building and maintaining a relationship with them were two different issues. He learned that from Ginny. He needed time to see if he and Hermiome could make a real go of things.

With that in mind, and just because of his own restlessness, he hadn't stuck around England for long after speaking to Ginny. He hadn't visited any of the other Weasleys, not even Ron. Perhaps it made him a coward, but he'd told Ginny that she could break their news to her family, and he thought that trumped the best friend card.

He'd taken care of some business with his Wizengamot proxy that was more easily handled in person. After which, he'd inspected Potter House to make sure things were being kept in order. He trusted his elves, but they would have had a fit if he'd been in the country and not stopped by. Other than that, all he did was pop up to Hogsmeade in order to visit Honeydukes to get Astoria some of her favorite chocolates and Hermione some sugar quills, neither of which could be procured in the States.

He slept two nights in Potter House. He still loved it, but although it would always be home, it no longer called to him in the same way it had. He longed for a witch an ocean away and her little Brooklyn flat.

He rang Hermione from Heathrow to tell her that he was flying back and give her his arrival time and when he did he found himself a little breathless by how absolutely ecstatic she sounded to hear from him. So, he boarded a plane without looking back. And when he landed he immediately hailed a cab to her place, not stopping by his hotel to bathe, or even deposit his luggage. In fact, he didn't even consider it.

He was glad it was evening and that she'd be home. He was also happy that he hadn't been in Britain long enough to acclimate to local time- though he knew he'd be fighting let lag on top of just pure exhaustion for days. And he regretted the lack of shower once he was standing in front of her building, but there was no going back now, his nerves couldn't take it.

After buzzing him up before the second syllable of his name had even left his mouth, he found her waiting for him at her front door. She was leaning against the door jamb, beaming at him. When he reached the landing she literally threw herself at him, no hesitation that he wouldn't catch her. He hugged her close and something settled in his heart: he could come home to this forever.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, kissing the place right in front of her ear, "I'm sure I smell like an airplane."

She pulled back looking rather gobsmacked and he realized that he had never been so forward in his affection for her, but she quickly smiled at him. "No, you smell like Harry." She raised a hand to his face but then seemed to think better of it and dropped it as her open expression shuttered. "I'm happy to offer you a shower though, if you'd like. You came straight here?" She eyed the one piece of luggage he'd brought with him and the hold-all he had across his shoulders.

"I wanted to talk to you and it didn't feel like it could wait," he admitted.

"Of course, come on in." She waved him into her flat. "Can I get you anything?" She gestured to the kitchen.

Harry started to refuse but then noticed how dry his mouth was: the combined result of the transatlantic flight and his nerves.

"Water?" He asked.

"Of course," she smiled, and it looked like she was going to reach for him again but dropped her arm almost immediately. "I think I'm going to make myself some tea. Would you like a cup too?"

"Oh, yes, thank you."

"Well, you can come with me, make yourself comfortable in the living room, or you're welcome to the bathroom if you'd like to freshen up." She chuckled. "Not that you need to, but since you mentioned smelling like an airplane I thought you might be feeling grimy, whatever you'd like…" she trailed off.

He didn't like how uncertain she was suddenly behaving around him, but he did need to pull himself together. He motioned in the direction of her bathroom. "I'll just go splash some water on my face."

"Take a shower if you like Harry." She seemed to gather herself and reached out to grasp his arm, this time she didn't stop herself and gently squeezed his bicep, "I'd like to hope we're well past standing on ceremony."

He released a breath. "You're right. That would be great."

"Okay, take your time, I'll be here whenever you're done. I don't know what's been going on but I know that it must have been a long few days for you," she gifted him with the sweetest smile he'd ever seen as she spoke

He wanted to kiss her. He quickly checked himself and smiled at her in return. "Thank you."

"You know where everything is?"

He nodded. "I'm all set, thank you Mione. It's nice to have somebody to come home to."

And he swore he could have seen her eyes melt, but that he'd also confused her with his declaration. He high-tailed it to the loo before he could do anything even more stupid like grab her and kiss her instead of just thinking about it.

In the bathroom he started the water for his shower, quickly stripped, but when he caught his own reflection in the mirror he gripped the sink on either side and glared at himself. "Get it together Potter," he ordered.

He showered, considered trimming his beard but decided that such frivolities were a waste of time at the moment, and then dressed in comfortable sweats. Hermione was not one to judge, or even care about what he was wearing.

When he entered the living room she was curled up on the couch, a cup of tea cradled in her hands. A second cup- still steaming- as well as a bottle of water were situated on the coffee table, clearly waiting for him to emerge. She looked up immediately at the sound of the door opening.

"Hey," she greeted him softly, but she didn't meet his eyes. "I kept it warm for you. Are you sure there's nothing else you'd like? Are you hungry?"

Harry just stared at her for a moment, not liking how uncertain she was suddenly behaving around him. He strode across the room and slid onto the sofa next to her. "I'm fine, love, maybe in a little while we could consider ordering something in, if you're hungry. I'm still settling in."

"That sounds good," she nodded. She took a few measured breaths, her foot tapping against the carpet. "So what's up?"

Harry smiled to himself, unsurprised and amused. How long could he have expected her to keep her curiosity at bay? Frankly, he was astounded by her restraint.

He cupped the mug of tea between his palms and eyed her. "I broke up with Ginny."

She went completely still for a moment but then she closed her eyes and took several long breaths. When she opened them again she met his earnestly. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not," he answered immediately.

Hermione looked almost alarmed.

"I'm sorry that it didn't work out, of course," he rushed to explain, "but I'm happy I realized it before we did something foolish like get married."

She just gazed at him over her cup. "Still," She drew out the word.

"It's sad. But it was time."

He watched her swallow and reach for him reflexively, she once again tried to snatch her hand back before he noticed, but he grabbed it before she could.

"Does this bother you?" He asked her, lacing their fingers together.

"No. But I'm not sure it's appropriate."

"Okay," he said quietly, and reluctantly released her hand.

"Things must be difficult for you right now and I hate that," a small hand found his forearm and he was unspeakably comforted by it. Then again, he shouldn't have been surprised, Hermione had been lending him courage since he was eleven years old, which was perhaps why he hadn't recognized it before: he'd become so accustomed to this woman's love that he hadn't recognized it for what it was.

"Yes. But I'm mostly relieved." Harry answered, only now realizing how much it was true.

"Really?"

"I'm not going to try and convince you that I didn't love Ginny. Or that some part of me still does. But this has been coming for a long time."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Then why were you going to marry her? That's an awfully big commitment."

"You're right. It's just that she doesn't understand me and she doesn't love me the way I've always craved to be loved. It's not her fault. However, it was inevitable, I think, that we were going to separate. I'm just happy I realized it now and not too late. Breaking a marriage bond is painful."

Hermione could only stare at Harry. What was he telling her? She had been worrying over him and what he was up to for four days. She had been thrilled that he'd called her to let her know when he'd be headed home- no, not home, back to New York. She had never expected him to show up on her doorstep less than twelve hours later with his suitcase still in hand to tell her that he'd broken his engagement with Ginny.

No matter what Astoria, and even Leah, had said she hadn't really believed it. But she was ecstatic at the confirmation that he and Ginny were no longer together, and she felt terribly guilty for it. Because she should be sad, right? Her friends, who had been together for a long time and were set to get married, were now broken up. She should feel upset, and since she didn't, it was only right that she felt guilty.

"Hermione?" Harry's voice startled her out of her reverie.

"I'm sorry," she lurched forward and enveloped him in her arms, "you must be heartbroken."

They both went still, he breathed deeply and she would have sworn she felt his lips brush against the skin of her neck.

"Would it make me a terrible person if I said that I wasn't?"

"Of course not," she breathed against his shoulder, "you could never be a terrible person."

They held each other for a long time, Hermione was almost tempted to drift off to sleep, so comforted was she by his scent and the sound of his heartbeat.

"Okay, then I have something to tell you."

She easily pulled back and regarded him as he cupped her shoulders, though dread tugged at her heartstrings. "Go ahead." She encouraged.

"I have feelings for you, like romantic kind of feelings." He looked anywhere but at her as he spoke.

She loved him with all of her heart, but he had never been eloquent. She'd never had a greater shock in her life and the immobilization spell he'd cast on her when they'd dueled just a few days before was nothing compared to the way those words froze her on the spot.

She blinked at him.

Eventually her mouth began to open and close stupidly, attempting to respond to his statement, but it didn't work.

Why couldn't she speak?

She'd hoped for this moment. Leah and Astoria had been certain he loved her, and she wanted that to be true so badly. And yet she felt frozen in place at what sounded like confirmation of that very feeling. Her chest was tight with emotion and she struggled to breathe.

He disentagled himself from her and leapt to his feet, his face inscrutable. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I'll see you later. Don't worry, we never have to speak of this again, it won't affect our friendship."

Hermione gasped. He shocked her. But she hated how he'd given up so easily, how he'd been able to wipe his face of any emotion without any effort. Merlin, how long, how many times had he been forced to do that? She knew something of his past- before Hogwarts- she had some idea of what it had taken for him to make friends, and especially to trust people the way he had her and Ron.

It was her turn to be brave.

She had never been so grateful for her hard earned defensive skills as she was when she was able to snag his wrist and pull him back down beside her. He spun his head to look at her, his gaze wary and maybe a little angry, but he didn't pull his arm out of her grip.

"I'm sorry," he breathed, "I never meant to make you uncomfortable. I obviously completely understood the situation."

Hermione released his wrist to grasp his hand in hers. When she tugged at his arm he automatically tugged in return, helping her off of the sofa. "Such a gentleman," she chuckled, intertwining their fingers.

She brought her free hand to his face, finally allowing herself to indulge in a way she'd been fantasizing about for weeks and scratching her fingertips through his facial hair.

"Harry?"

"Hmmm?" He answered, leaning into her touch in a way Crookshanks once had, making her laugh.

His eyes popped open and his gaze was so adoring that it made her breath catch. And she knew that it was time. She had to tell him the truth, she had to tell him everything.

"I love you completely and I have for a very long time."


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

It was Harry's turn to be frozen in place. He was absolutely giddy, but he was almost unable to believe what his best friend- his love- had just said to him. But then he noticed Hermione's face fall. She looked away from him and took a suspiciously shaky breath, at which point he realized his mistake. She'd told him she loved him and he'd said: nothing.

He was just so flabbergasted. He'd had some vague, nebulous idea, paired with Malfoy's words (because despite the fact that the man was an utter arse, he was also very observant) that she might have felt something more than just friendship for him. But frankly: 'I love you and I have for a very long time,' was beyond his wildest dreams.

So, he was thrilled, but uncertain, and maybe even a little intimidated by the idea. A very long time? How long? How many things had he missed over the years if he had been ignorant to something so enormous, and what did that mean?

He fell back down on the couch beside her and- despite his insecurities- he couldn't help but place an arm around her. The woman for whom he'd just traversed an ocean twice over, and ended a years long relationship just to have a chance to be with, had just said that she loved him. That she had loved him for a long time.

It was only the look of what he could only describe as pure terror on her face that pulled him out of his reverie.

"Hermione?"

"I'm sorry, was that too much? Did I come on too strong? I know you just broke up with Ginny, I just didn't want you to doubt-" she let out a little sob.

"Hermione," he tried to interrupt.

But she continued on as if she hadn't even heard him in that way that was just so 'Hermione' of her. "I love you. I've been holding it in too long, I needed to say it."

The declaration hit him differently this time.

There had been one moment in his life before this one- only one, and that was really saying something, given what he'd been through- when he had felt like the world stopped. And when it started again, it had been a different place. That moment was when Voldemort had fallen for the final time. It had been a relief, and he had known that his world had been remade, and that it was a place where he would finally be allowed to truly live. But it had also been marred by grief and exhaustion.

This, this was so much better. This was joy. Everything he'd been through to get to this moment had been absolutely worth it. "Oh Hermione," he gasped.

Her face crumpled and she burst into tears.

"Hey," he soothed, cupping the back of her neck, and somewhere in the back of his mind he realized that he was doing a terrible job reassuring her, but she'd well and truly gobsmacked him. "None of that."

"Maybe you should go and we can start this conversation over another time."

"No!" He practically shouted. "I don't think I could force myself to leave you right now unless you basically order me away."

She gazed at him as she wiped at her cheeks, and he saw both hope and fear in her eyes.

"I don't want you to leave."

"Good," he breathed a sigh of relief. "But I do think we need to talk."

"A long and embarrassing conversation, I'm sure," she said ruefully, but she leaned her forehead against his shoulder and that brought him comfort that this conversation wasn't about to completely implode, at least. "I just promised them I would tell you how I felt if you broke up with Ginny."

"Them?" He asked, amused, despite himself. It was typical for Hermione's mind to jump around in ways he assumed he would never be able to follow. And it seemed, in this instance, things were no different.

She sat up and moved away from him slightly, throwing her head back so that it was resting half-way on the back of the couch and half on his arm. "Well I guess I might as well tell you everything."

"I think that would be a good place to start." But he smiled at her, hoping to reduce the harshness of his words.

She turned her head and rolled her eyes at him. "Leah and Astoria. Leah's known how I felt about you for years, and I kind of blurted it out to Astoria the morning you left. But apparently it was already obvious anyway."

He laughed at his own obliviousness. "Not to me."

She bit her lip. "I suppose that's a good and a bad thing."

"What does that mean?"

"Well, as much as I'd have liked for us to have...come to terms with these feelings years ago, I'm just not sure that either of us was prepared for it. Does that make sense?"

He could only nod. He had needed to work out his feelings for Ginny after the war. If he hadn't, he had a sneaking suspicion he always would have wondered, and it could have tainted anything he'd started with Hermione. She deserved better than that. Also, at that point, he was still clinging to Hermione as the only constant in his life, and it probably would have been unhealthy to make her into even more than that.

"And then there were just so many things being piled onto you," she continued. "I couldn't bear for my feelings to be something you had to worry about, or be something that might come between us."

He frowned. "I can't imagine that happening."

"Oh Harry, I know you mean that now. But remember how it was when we were teenagers?

As much as you had the weight of the world on your shoulders, you still noticed girls. I just never seemed to be one of them, at least not in that way, so I wasn't going to place these feelings on you…can you really say that wouldn't have totally freaked you out?"

He stared at her as her words re-registered: 'A very long time.' For some reason he had immediately assumed that her feelings had developed during the horcrux hunt, which perhaps told him something about his own feelings. But it sounded like it had been longer than that.

His heart ached for what she'd suffered, while he also admitted to himself that she was probably right. He had been a blind, ignorant, and stupid teenager. He probably couldn't have appreciated Hermione. He might not have realized that he wanted her even if she had approached him directly. He had been distracted by the pretty, shiny things in his periphery. He wasn't sure he had been capable of truly seeing the tremendous girl who had been right in front of him- or more correctly, standing stalwart at his side- all along.

But he still mourned the idea of the time they'd lost. Not just as lovers, but as friends. All this time she'd been away-

And that's when he put the pieces together, and the full picture came into view.

"You left because of me, didn't you? You moved away because you felt this way and I was with Ginny," he blurted. It was probably the most conceited thing he'd ever said, and he immediately cringed and regretted it. But her breath hitched and his intuition flared. "Oh darling," he whispered.

"I know it's pathetic," she said in a small voice. "It's not the way Hermione Granger: Order of Merlin First Class, Brightest Witch of Her Age, should act."

Harry was a bit dumbfounded, he knew what a burden expectations could be. He had been born under the weight of them in the form of both his last name and a prophecy, and he was still formulating a response to this when she continued.

"It wasn't the only reason. I just didn't have a safe space in Britain anymore. My parents were gone, Hogwarts was ruined for me after all I'd seen there, the Burrow soured. Ron...it wasn't that I didn't care for him, love him even, or that I don't still love him in a certain way, but I felt like I had used him badly. You were my only refuge and that wasn't fair to anybody involved. So yes, that's why I left. I felt like the only thing I could do was start over completely."

"Hermione," he gasped.

"I tried to keep in touch, but it was just too hard. And I'm sorry that I did that, that I made you feel like you didn't matter," she answered.

"Hey, hey," he lowered his arm and reached it around her, squeezing her to him. "It's okay," he soothed, kissing her temple.

"It's not," she whispered, "don't pretend that it is."

"I'm not saying I'm happy about it," he clarified, "but now that you've explained I do understand, and I feel a lot better about it."

His mind was racing. He was partially shocked that his best friend had been able to hide so much from him. But another part of him thought that what she was saying made total sense, and that maybe somewhere deep down, he'd known all along. A few deep breaths of her scent as she cuddled against him and he almost laughed- what a fool he was.

"And it's okay," he reassured her again, he tapped her chin so that she would meet his eyes. "I love you too. And yes, I just got out of a relationship, but we'll figure this out."

She went completely rigid and then tore herself out of his arms. "Are you serious?" She nearly shrieked.

He was a little insulted by her response. "Mione, do you think I would lie to you, or toy with you?"

She let out a long breath. "Of course not. I'm sorry this is just feeling…" there was a long pause, her mouth opened and closed as she obviously struggled for words.

"Feeling a little surreal?" He attempted to help.

"A little too good to be true."

They just stared at each other until she began to grin and he felt himself return it. Feeling light, happy and impish Harry responded: "Well I am fairly amazing. I can understand how you would worry about that," he joked

"Harry James, ego is not attractive!" She chided, using his given and middle name, as only she ever did, and he thought he might burst with happiness at the playful reprimand. But it was also a reminder that he couldn't allow himself to mess this up, could not lose this special woman.

She settled herself against his shoulder and he kissed the top of her head. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," he responded, without really thinking about it.

"Is Ginny okay? I mean, I know she's not okay, so to speak. But she's my friend, though she probably wouldn't say so anymore, and I'm sorry to bring it up but-"

"Hermione, Hermione, I know what you mean, and it's okay. I think that she's okay as well, or at least that she will be," he hastened to reassure her. He exhaled heavily. How had he never realized how thoroughly good the witch in his arms was? "She wasn't surprised, I'm not sure if I should feel better or worse about that. I think I might be a terrible partner."

"You're not," she said immediately.

"How would you know?" He asked, and immediately winced at how harsh he sounded. Not just given what she'd just confessed, but because he knew how she was, she wouldn't have said that if she hadn't meant it.

"Because I know you," she answered, nearly echoing his thoughts.

He did not deserve her. Perhaps that was one of the reasons he'd never imagined the two of them together.

"You're sad," Hermione guessed, she gazed at him and then tentatively raised one hand to run her fingers through his beard. "You should be," she continued, "you were with Ginny for a long time. Don't be afraid to hide that from me. It's natural."

He decided now was not the time to correct her about the course of his thoughts; about the fact that they were so much more about her than about his so-recent ex. "I feel so many things, I don't know how to explain them to myself," he answered instead, honestly, if not completely so.

"I'm here," she murmured as she continued to rake her fingers through his beard and then up into his hair. He leaned into her touch. "Whatever you want or need from me, and whenever you're ready."

His eyes snapped to hers. He had decided that he didn't want to wait to pursue her, that he had no need to wait. But the idea also frightened him in a way that no dark lord or villain had ever had. However, her tender actions made him brave. In fact, he didn't think he could hold back.

"I'm ready." With anybody else he would have been embarrassed by the husky quality he heard in his own voice

"Harry," she responded, her eyes were wary but she was beaming at him. "What does that mean?"

"Do you trust me?"

The look of sheer incredulity on her face almost made him laugh."Of course I do."

He took her wrist and brought her hand away from his face, he couldn't properly concentrate when she was touching him. And then he leaned in and met his lips with hers.

There were no fireworks when they kissed, or any other cliche. Just a feeling of rightness that settled in his soul had Harry wishing he'd recognized their connection while they had been at Hogwarts. He knew that maybe she was right, maybe they would have screwed it all up if they'd acknowledged things and given it a go back then, but he could only think how comforting it would have been to have such a thing in his life during the war.

"Hi," he murmured when he eventually pulled away, though he kept his forehead pressed against hers.

"Hi," she said in response, kissing the tip of his nose. "As much as I'd like to just keep doing this, we should finish talking."

He was almost tempted to pout even though it had been his suggestion. But he shook himself. "You mean so much to me."

She chuckled, her head on his shoulder. "You mean a lot to me too."

"And I'd like to see you- romantically," he rolled his eyes to himself, thinking how many ways they were essentially doing this backwards.

"I would like to think I've made it abundantly clear by now that I want that as well." She grinned at him- albeit shly.

"But I'd like to take things slowly. I can't even think of losing you if we're too reckless."

"I agree," she nodded.

"You do?" He wasn't sure what he'd expected, but it wasn't simply acquiescence, that wasn't really Hermione's style.

She shot him a knowing look and rolled her eyes. "I know I've done a terrible job managing my interpersonal relationships in Britain as of late, but I'm not totally stupid."

"Of course not, that's pretty much the last thing I'd called you." He shifted but kept her hugged close. "So we'll take our time."

"Yeah, we'll take our time."

Harry gazed at her: her flushed cheeks, the heat in her eyes, the way she licked her lips, and thought that he might be the stupidest man on the planet. Take their time, indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So grateful to you guys for the enthusiastic response to the last chapter, I tried not to keep you hanging too long. Thanks for reading!


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Ron Weasley was in a good mood as he flooed to the Burrow for his family's weekly Sunday brunch. Fantastic even. He'd recently made a big arrest, gaining him a bonus and allowing him to splurge for the new broom he'd been saving up for. And this was the first time he'd really be able to put it through its paces in the orchards around his childhood home, and to use it in the family pick-up quidditch game.

Plus, his girlfriend was accompanying him. Something she had been doing more and more often lately. He was beginning to think that the next thing he should start saving for was a ring. Maybe he should ask Harry for advice about how he knew when it was time to propose to Ginny.

His mind stuttered at the thought.

Harry wouldn't be there. He was in America... with Hermione. He hadn't spoken to Harry since he'd left. That wasn't unusual, blokes didn't ring each other to chat, for Merlin's sake.

But he'd heard from his mother, who had heard from Ginny, that Harry and Hermione had reconnected. He was enough of a man to be able to admit that he was jealous. Because gods he missed them both.

He'd been missing Hermione for years, of course. After he got over their break up and finally accepted her decision to move away, he'd simply missed her. He had wished she'd visit more often. He even wished for more of her long nagging letters.

He had missed Harry too, in the past. When his best friend was on assignment Ron often had to stop himself from flooing Potter House to ask him if he wanted to go for a fly, or out for a pint. But now, knowing that they were together, it was different. It was like a part of him was missing and he ached for days gone by when, despite the world being a much scarier place, the three of them being together had made everything alright.

He shook off his thoughts easily when he stepped into the Burrow and was greeted by the familiar sounds of his large family and the smell of brunch cooking. It was going to be a good day.

His confidence lasted for about a minute. Exactly as long as it took for him to spot his sister, who looked terrible; she had the look of somebody who had been doing a lot of crying lately, somebody who was grieving. Unfortunately, he knew that look all too well.

And for a moment Ron was seized with panic, one name running through his mind: Harry. But then a voice in his head, which even after all these years still sounded like Hermione, told him to calm down. The voice assured him that if something had happened to Harry he would have been told already, and the Burrow would certainly not have its normal boisterous atmosphere.

"I'm going to talk to Ginny," he murmured to Lavender, indicating with his head in the direction of his sister. "And I think I should probably go alone." Lavender followed his line of sight and her eyes went wide when she caught sight of the younger witch.

"Yeah, okay, of course go take care of your sister. I'll go see if your mum needs some help."

"Thanks, love." He kissed her cheek and made his way over to Ginny. He felt eyes on him as he crossed the room and he instinctively knew that he was not the only one who had noticed that there was something wrong with the youngest Weasley, and probably not the only one to try and talk to her.

But Ron hoped that she might open up to him. They had a special relationship. Given that there was just over a year between them in age they'd really only had each other growing up. As kids Fred and George had existed in their own little world, and their three eldest brothers had seemed so much older than them, they'd had nothing in common.

He had resented that he only had her for company when they were younger. But now he had to admit that, especially as little sisters went, she had been cool. In fact, she continued to be cool: he had all the free quidditch tickets he wanted. And though he would never, ever say it out loud, he was proud as hell of her.

"Hey Gin," he approached, trying to sound casual. "How was training this week?"

She took a deep breath and didn't look up at him, just picked at the cushion of the chair where she was seated. "I took a few days off."

Ron just stood there blinking at her. He'd known she was upset, but this was more serious than he'd imagined. She had once gotten such a serious fracture in her leg that she had to have her femur vanished and regrown, and she'd still been back on the pitch the next day. She didn't skip practice for anything.

"Is everything okay?" He asked tentatively.

She finally turned her head and he automatically took a step back at the blazing anger in her eyes. "What do you think?"

Ron licked his lips and resisted the urge to retreat completely. "Do you want to tell me what's wrong?"

She bent her head and took another deep breath, and then another, though this one came out more shuddering, like she was trying not to cry. He stepped forward and put a hand on her shoulder. He knew from experience that was a maneuver which would either calm her down or open the floodgates, but it was the least he could offer her. She took a few more deep breaths until suddenly her head snapped up and she looked at him with determination.

"Give me a hand?"

"Uh, sure?"

She stood up, but instead of taking his hand used his shoulder to help steady herself as she stepped up onto the chair where she'd been seated.

"I have an announcement to make!" She called, to Ron's surprise. It took a few moments but the house went mostly quiet. "The wedding's off." The declaration was succinct, almost curt.

And at that the house became absolutely silent. Even the children seemed to sense the shocking nature of the moment. Predictably, it was his mother who broke the silence.

"I'm sorry, love, what did you just say?" She asked his sister.

Ginny took another of those shuddering breaths and her grip on his shoulder tightened. "I said that the wedding is off. Harry and I have broken up."

Ron knew that he was notorious for allowing his mouth to run away from him, for saying insensitive or even cruel things. It was a tendency he'd tried to curtail over the years. But later he would be certain that in this moment he had been absolutely helpless to stop it: "What do you mean you and Harry broke up, he's in America?!"

Ginny turned her head and sneered, actually sneered at him, her voice chilling. "Yes, well, he made a special trip home to come break up with me."

Ron felt his temper rising at his best friend for hurting his sister. But he was also very confused by what she was saying, and that kept him frozen in place and not storming off in a rage.

"Harry was here?" His mother asked. "And he didn't come and see us?"

"Mum! He was here to _break up with me!_ " Ginny made a little sound of derision. "Anyway, he offered to come by and tell you himself but I sent him back to Hermione."

Ron's heart seized at that statement. "What do you mean you 'sent him back to Hermione?'" He asked automatically.

Ginny looked down at him and let out a sound that could only be described as a hiss. "Oh please. You know better than anybody what I mean."

He did.

He knew Harry and Hermione.

He knew how special their relationship had always been and he'd always suspected...but he also knew Harry and Hermione. And he didn't believe what his sister was implying.

However, looking at Ginny, seeing how obviously hurt she was, he was furious. He was angry and injured that he had no idea what was really going on with his best friends. And he was growing more confused with every passing second. The three of them were supposed to be together, forever: a team. What had happened?

The Weasleys had continued with their traditional Sunday meal after Ginny's announcement. It had been tense and quiet aside from his mother's occasional soft sobs. Ginny returned to her flat without partaking in the brunch, nobody had been able to convince her to stay. And Ron continued to be baffled about what he should be feeling.

On one hand his sister was hurt. Harry had hurt her. That was undisputed. And she was his sister, which was an indescribable bond.

On the other hand, if anybody had earned his loyalty and trust it was Harry Potter.

Ron's feelings for Hermione were more complicated, but he was still confident that she was a good person. He didn't think either of them would intentionally hurt anybody. He was so confused and it left him feeling listless and removed from the situation.

* * *

 As a result, Lavender was easily able to coax him back to his flat at the first possible opportunity.

"Ring him," Lavender encouraged after they were seated on his couch. "Harry," she clarified when he just gazed at her, uncomprehendingly, as she waved his mobile in his face.

He rarely used the thing. Harry had given it to him as a Christmas present a couple of years before. He enjoyed the so called 'text' feature; it was like being able to send short, instantaneous owls. However, speaking over the device still felt unnatural. But Lavender was right, he couldn't just pretend that this morning hadn't happened.

He couldn't pretend he didn't feel somewhat betrayed.

He couldn't pretend that the idea of his best friends being together didn't make him highly uncomfortable, or that he wouldn't stew over it until he at least knew one way or the other if there was some truth to Ginny's barely disguised accusations.

And there was a primal part of him that felt the need to defend his baby sister's honor.

He took a deep breath and hit the button to ring Harry. It was several moments before his best friend answered, his voice groggy and thick with sleep, and it was only then that he remembered the time difference; it was still mid-morning where Harry was.

"Ron?" Harry slurred.

And Ron couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah mate, sorry to wake you. I didn't think. Having a bit of a lie in?"

There was a beat of silence then: "Oh shite, I forgot to set an alarm. Hermione's gonna kill me."

He must have had some kind of reaction to that statement because Lavender immediately took his free hand.

"You have plans with Hermione, do you?" His words came out much more accusatory than he'd meant them to be.

Everything went so quiet that at first Ron thought he had lost the connection with Harry, but then there was a long sigh. "So this is that call, huh?"

"Yeah, yeah I suppose it is."

"Go ahead."

"Go ahead?"

"Whatever you need to say to me, I deserve it, so go ahead."

Ron pulled the device away from his face and glared at it. Stupid, noble git, made it almost impossible to get properly angry with him. But Ron was determined to get through this. "You broke up with my sister. You hurt her."

"I did and I'm sorry I hurt her. I certainly didn't do it intentionally. But she deserves better than-" he paused and cleared his throat, "yeah, I did."

"What were you going to say Harry? She deserves better than what?"

"A man who loves her, but will always love somebody else more," his best friend admitted with a sigh.

He experienced a flash of rage, then sadness. Though he wasn't quite sure he knew why. He felt Lavender taking his mobile from limp fingers. And then watched her doing something, he wasn't sure what, but she put the phone on the coffee table in front of them and suddenly he could hear Harry without having to hold it to his ear.

"Can I assume from your silence that you know I'm talking about Hermione?"

"Well," Ron scoffed, "Ginny did say she sent you back to Hermione."

"I wish she hadn't said that."

"Why, don't want your secret exposed?" Ron hissed.

"No! Because it's not fair to Hermione, Ron! She has done nothing wrong," Harry shouted. "I never meant for this to happen, and I never lied to you about Hermione. I'm just an idiot and I only now realized. Be angry with me all you want, but she's truly done nothing wrong."

"I- I don't know what to say." He was honestly taken back by the vehemence of Harry's response.

"Imagine how I feel," Harry snorted. Then there was a pause. "Fuck," he swore quietly. "Merlin, Ron, I'm sorry, I can't believe I just said that."

He could just picture Harry running his hands through his hair and down his face in his discomfort. It was almost enough to make him laugh.

"I should want to kill you," he paused. "Maybe I do, but then again, I know I never could."

"I get it, I mean, she's your sister."

"Which is the problem with your best friend falling for your sister," Ron huffed. "You said you wouldn't hurt her."

"I never meant to," Harry reiterated.

Ron was angry, and a big part of him wanted to rant and rave and tell Harry what a terrible person he was. But the problem was that he knew Harry. And he knew that he was telling the truth. That he'd turn his wand on himself before he hurt any innocent person, much less somebody he cared for.

It was bloody annoying.

There was a long, uncomfortable pause and something that had- probably selfishly- been tearing at Ron's heart since he heard Harry and Ginny's news finally burst forth. He was angry on more than just Ginny's behalf, he also felt betrayed himself.

"You once said that Hermione was like your sister," he accused.

Ron could now openly admit that he and Hermione had no business being in a relationship, that they had never been destined. But he also didn't want to hear that his best friends had been hiding such a massive secret from him. He really didn't like feeling like he'd been played for a fool.

Harry let out a startled little laugh. "Oh, mate, I'm such an idiot. When I said that I meant it, I'd swear on my magic."

"So you haven't always loved her?"

"I- I don't know to be honest. I don't know when it started. I don't know when she went from being my best friend to something more."

"I don't understand. How could you not know? Either you think of her like a sister, or you think of her like...a woman."

"It's not that simple Ron," Harry breathed, "at least not for me."

"How is it not?" He demanded.

"What's the most important thing in the world to you?" Harry asked, without missing a beat.

"My family," Ron answered, also without hesitation.

He heard his oldest friend release a long breath.

"And that's how I feel about you and Hermione. You were- are- my family. We were in the middle of a war when I said that. I couldn't even consider Hermione romantically when there was so much other stuff going on. I just knew that she was one of the most important things in the world to me, so I compared her to my sister. I wasn't lying, I swear it. But I see now how naive I was. And I want you to know that nothing happened between me and Hermione until after I broke up with Ginny."

Ron closed his eyes as these words settled into his heart. "But you are together now?" He clarified.

"Yeah. Yeah we are. I understand if it will take you a while to get used to it. I even understand if you're angry about it, but we're definitely together now."

Yet another long silence as Ron tried to figure out just what he was feeling.

"I don't know what to say," he finally said helplessly.

"I understand." There was an awkward pause. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt Ginny or any of the rest of your family. I never meant to put you in this position. I know you're kind of in the middle of this and that's unfair."

Ron scoffed. "But you did Harry, that's not just gonna go away."

"I know. I don't expect it to."

There was an odd sound in the background as he spoke that had Ron frowning at the phone.

"Harry James! Wake up! I told you to set an alarm!" Hermione's muffled voice suddenly came across the line. And Ron realized that the sound he'd heard was her knocking on the door, and that she was now yelling through it. "Seriously," she continued, "hurry up, I don't want to listen to twenty minutes of Malfoy ragging on us because we couldn't even manage to get to brunch on time!"

"Give me a minute, Ron," Harry said.

"No, it's okay, I'll let you go," he answered quickly. He wasn't necessarily angry (okay, yes, he was), but he really didn't think he was ready to witness this new reality of his best friends as a couple, even if he was just listening in, second-hand.

"Harry!" He heard Hermione calling again, "are you okay? Why haven't you been answering my calls?" She sounded more than a little frightened now and Ron's heart lurched. He had far too much experience with the feeling of not knowing if somebody you loved was okay, and with these two people specifically, he could even imagine the look she probably had on her face.

"Seriously, I just need a second Ron."

"No, just give Hermione my love, okay?" He told Harry, squeezing his eyes shut. "Obviously not like that."

Harry let out a startled laugh. "No, I knew what you meant. And I will, she'll be happy to hear it, and I know she'd send hers in return." He heard a few more muffled calls of Harry's name and then what was obviously the sound of a door opening. "I'll speak to you soon?"

"Yeah soon." He disconnected the call without further comment and looked up to see Lavender gazing at him with sympathy. But there was something else there too: she wasn't at all surprised by what she'd just heard. "How long have you known?" He asked her.

"About Harry and Hermione?" She wondered.

"Yeah." He answered on a resigned sigh.

She just stared at him for the longest time. "Since always." She moved closer to him and took his hand. "And I think you have too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did you guys like hearing from Ron? I know people tend to have strong feelings about him- one way or the other- so I hope you enjoyed this. Obviously this chapter was a little different. There's a reason for that. The first time I had a story reach 1,000 followers on fanfiction.net I wrote a bonus chapter to thank my readers and just to mix things up. It's become a tradition for me whenever a story reaches that particular milestone. This is that chapter for this fic. So, thank you guys so much and I'll be back soon and we'll be back with Harry and Hermione. Beta love to Weestarmeggie. Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> New year, new story! I hope y’all like it! Thanks to Weestarmeggie for her beta work


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